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PREFACE. 


"ANY  are  the  books  that  give  in  interesting  detail  the  ad- 


•J-^-Lventures  of  a  single  or  a  few  heroes,  or  of  a  restricted  region 
of  the  American  frontiers.  But  it  has  been  the  conception  of  this 
volume  to  present  a  broad  view,  embracing  the  more  celebrated 
episodes  of  the  life  led  by  the  most  noted  pioneer  explorers, 
early  settlers  and  brave  soldiers  who  have  won  distinction  m 
border  warfare.  It  is  surely  a  worthy  task  to  gather,  in  a  natu- 
ral, chronological  succession,  records  of  those  thrilling  exploits, 
the  recitals  of  which,  oft  repeated,  have  secured  their  heroes 
immortality. 

If  it  be  objected  that  many  of  these  worthies  seemed  to  lack  a 
sujfficient  respect  for  the  sacredness  of  human  life,  their  surround- 
ings should  be  remembered.  If  they  were  apparently  too  ready 
with  the  knife  or  the  trigger,  it  was  because  their  own  lives  were 
felt  to  be  held  cheaply  by  many  about  them  who  were  unre- 
strainable  by  law. 

At  least  we  have  glorified  no  gory  outlaws,  nor  have  we  paint- 
ed in  alluring  colors  the  road  to  the  penitentiary  or  the  scaffold. 

The  chain  is  nearly  complete :  not  entirely,  for  it  was  not  de- 
signed to  make  a  set  history  of  all  border  events  of  interest. 
The  chief  aim  has  been  to  display  the  differing  phases  of  the  same 
long  battle  on  the  frontiers,  from  decade  to  decade,  through  centu- 
ries, as  the  Indian  races  were  gradually  pushed  back  by  the  march 
of  the  encroaching  white  race,  till  it  enveloped  them  on  all  sides. 
It  is  impossible  to  give,  in  a  single  volume,  or,  indeed,  in  a  small 
library,  tho  lives  of  all  Americans  who  have  met  with  remarkable 
and  thrilling  adventures  with  either  brute  or  human  aborigines. 
But  it  is  believed  that  the  most  typical  character  of  each  strong- 
ly marked  period  ha?  b^en  selected ;  and  while  it  is  also  imprao- 


9620  72 


iv 


PREFACE. 


ti cable  to  include  all  the  stories  relating  to  such  ni«n,  it  is  thought 
that  those  incidents  most  characteristic  of  a  man  and  his  times, 
and  possessing  the  most  interest  to  the  reader,  have  been  chosen. 
So  many  different  volumes  have  been  consulted,  that  to  refer 
each  statement  to  the  authority  upon  which  it  is  based  would 
needlessly  encumber  the  book.  When  the  original  possesses  spe- 
cial interest,  as  in  the  case  of  Boone's  Autobiography,  or  Crock 
ett's  Diary  in  the  Alamo,  it  is  specially  quoted. 

D.M.  K.  - 


CONTENTS. 


V 


CHAPTEE  I. 
COLCtfsTEL  DANIEL  BOONE, 
Boone's  Eame--Early  Training — A  Deer  Turns  Out  a  Dear — Leaves  Korth  Carolina 
for  Kentucky — The  Neutral  or  "  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground  " — Captured  by  the 
Indians — The  Escape — The  Lonely  Camp — Squire  Boone's  Arrival — ^Alone  in  the 
Wilderness-^Savage  Visits — Eemoves  his  Eamily  to  KentucUP— Attack  on  the 
Emigi-ants — Disheartened  Companions— The  Dunmore  War — Back  Again— Settle- 
ment at  Booneshorough — Kejection  of  the  Peace-Belt — Capture  of  the  Three  Girls 
— The  Kescue — The  First  Siege  of  Booneshorough — The  Second  Siege — Capture 
of  Boone  and  Surrender  of  his  Party — A  Particular  Attachment  for  Boone — His 
Indian  Toilet — ^Escapes  Again — A  Smart  Eight — The  Third  Siege — ^Parleying — 
"A  Singular  Custom" — An  Unsuccessful  Attempt  at  Treachery  by  the  Besiegers — 
A  Mine  and  a  Countermine — The  Siege  Eaised — Sakmaking — Squire  Boone  Killed 
— Flight  for  Life — The  Hat  Stratagem — Bobbed — Unjust  Suspicions — A  Bloody 
Fight — Attack  on  Bryant's  Station — The  Water  Carriers — The  Decoy — Cunning 
against  Cunning — Keinforcements  —  Pursuit  of  the  Indians  —  McGary's  Rash 
'Courage — A  Battle  that  Becomes  a  Slaughter — Hea^^  Loss — Flight  to  the  Settle- 
ments— Noble  Deeds  —  Peace  —  Boone  a  Farmer — The  Tobacco  Stratagem — 
Throws  Dust  in  the  Eyes  of  the  Indians — Land  Speculators — Loses  His  Home — 
Eemoves  East — Too  Crowded — Learns  of  a  Happy  Land — To  Which  He  Ee- 
moves— Prosperity — Trouble  Again  with.  Titles — Paying  Off  Debts — O^d  Age 
—Death   15 

CHAPTEE  11. 
SIMON  KENTON. 

A  Bo;yish  Passion — His  First  Victory — Disastrous  Eesult — His  Flight — ^Wanderings 
and  Adventures — In  Dunmore's  War — At  Booneshorough— Saves  Boone  from 
the  Indians — A  Horse-Stealing  Expedition — Captured — Plenty  of  Fun  for  the 
Indians — Not  So  Much  for  Kenton — Too  Much  of  a  Free  Eide — A  Hug — At- 
tempts to  Escape — Eecapture — The  Council  House — Condemned  to  the  Torture 
and  Death — Simon  Girty — The  Eenegade's  Intercession — The  Unreasonableness 
of  his  Bequest — The  Decision  Eeversed — A  Larger  Council  Confirms  the  First — 
Girty  Powerless — Logan  Fails  to  Save  Kenton — The  Captive  is  Borrowed — But 
Not  Eeturned  to  the  Lenders — Escapes  to  Booneshorough — Service  as  Soldier — 
Loses  his  Land — Effort  to  Eegain  it — ^Visits  the  Legislature — Unexpected  Honors 
— "  Proudest  Day  of  My  Life  "—Death   49 

CHAPTEE  III. 
OTHEE  HEEOES  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  BOONE. 
The  Wetzels — Bo}ash  Yeai*s — Capture  of  Jacob  and  Lewis  Wetzel — ^Escape  of  the 
Boys — IGlling  of  Mills — Levis  Wetzel  Chased  by  Four  Indians — Lewis  Wetzel 
Loading  while  Eunning — "  Hun  Gun  Always  Loaded  " — Jacob  Wetzel  and  Ken- 
ton Go  on  a  Hunt — Old  Wetzel's  Heroism  while  Mortally  Wounded — Aveng- 
ing theb  Father— Martm  Wetzel  Captured— [^ills  Three  Indians  and  Escapes 


CONTENTS. 


—^Lewis  "Wetzel  Hunts  Indians — "FllTake  a  Scalp  or  Lose  my  Own" — He 
Takes  One— Another  Hunt — Trees  Four  Indians — One  Gets  Away — Offends 
Against  Military  Law — Captured — ^Escape — ^Popular  Feeling — Pursuing  Ma- 
rauders— ^An  Impetuous  Lover — A  Weary  Hunter— A  Watchful  Dog — A 
Worthy  Foe— A  Close  Shave — The  Poes— A  Party  of  Avengers— Two  Birds 
with  One  Stone — Andrew  Poe's  Fight  with  Two  Indians— A  Desperate  Battle — 
Help  Arrives — Shot  by  Friends — Major  Samuel  McCulloch — Siege  of  Fort 
Henry— McCulloch's  Force  Arrives — Gets  into  the  Fort — But  the  Major  is  Cut 
Off— Famoi^Leap  Down  Wheeling  Creek — A  Slippery  Customer — Adventur- 
ous Logston^Efiet  ween  Two  Fires — Equally  Matched — A  Greased  Pig — Logston 
Holds  Him— Plucky,  Though  Wounded— No  Evidence  of  the  Fight  .  68 

CHAPTEE  IV. 
THE  CRAWFOKD  EXPEDITION. 

The  Moravian  Indians — Their  Supposed  Treachery — The  Proposed  Punishment — 
The  Expedition— The  Battle— The  Eetreat— Capture  of  Col.  Crawford  and  Dr. 
Knight — The  White  Savage,  Girty  — Some  Account  of  His  Life — Horrible 
Death  of  Col.  Crawford — Escape  of  Dr.  Knight — Another  Captive — Slover's 
Youth — The  British  Governor's  Message — The  Celestial  Fire  Department — 
The  Giant  Longknife — The  Giant  Dwarfed — ^Wakeful  Watchers  —  Broken 

Bonds— Slover  Escapes   93 

CHAPTEE  V. 
SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 

Women  Worth  Defending — Mrs.  Dustin — The  Laggard's  Punishment — ^Escape  Im- 
possible— But  Accomplished — Betty  Zane — Going  for  Ammunition — No  Shot 
Wasted  on  a  White *Squaw — A  Widow's  Home — The  Night  Attack — A  Moth- 
er's Decision — Smoked  Out — A  Heroine's  Death— Pursuit — Daring  Scouts — 
Discovered — An  Appeal  for  Help — The  Captive  Maiden — Her  Safety  Consult- 
ed —  The  Scouts  Attacked — A  Gloomy  Outlook — Unexpected  Help  —  No 
Further  Use  for  Her— "Trust  Me"— A  Tale  of  Revenge— A  Daring  Guide— A 
Wounded  Man — His  Plucky  Wife — Down  the  Chimney — A  Newcomer — A 
Young  Wife's  Defense  of  Her  Children — Three  Indians  with  One  Bullet— 
Twenty-five  Scared  Off  by  One  Woman   107 

CHAPTEE  VI. 
LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 
The  West  in  1800 — Census  Figures  Then  and  Now — Attempts  at  Making  Overland 
Passages  to  the  Pacific — Purchase  of  Louisiana  from  the  French — Jefferson's 
Plan — Setting  Out  of  the  Expedition — The  Ancestors  of  the  Osages — Councils 
with  the  Indians — A  Treacherous  River — Indian  Horse  Thieves — A  Fight  Threat- 
ened— Winter  Quarters — Assault  on  a  Small  Part}^ — Losses — A  Retaliatory  Ex- 
pedition— Bear  Fights — A  Close  Shave — A  Buffalo  Hunt — Exploring — Appal- 
ling Stories — Trading  with  the  Nez  Perces  Indians— Crossing  the  Mountains 
— Descending  the  Columbia— Winter  Quarters— Eye-Water  Medicine  Men— 
On  the  Return— Encamp  with  Eight  Blackfeet— Thievishness  of  their  Yis- 

itoTS — A  Lively  Time   126 

CHAPTEE  VIL 
GEN.  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 
Sirth  and  Education— Commissioned  Ensign — Service  Among  Ohio  Indians — Civil 
Appointments— British  vs.  American  Treatment  of  Indians— Turbulent  State  of 


CONTENTS. 


vii 


^he  Country — Elskwatawa,  the  Prophet — ^Tecumseh,  the  Chief— Indian  Efforts  at 
Reformation — Tecumseh's  Education  and  Early  Experiences — League  of  the 
Tribes — Appeals  to  Superstition — Eloquence  of  the  Prophet — The  Prophet's 
Town — Tecumseh's  Life-work — Efforts  to  Conciliate  Indians — Reception  of  the 
Measenger— Outwitting  the  Governor — Rumors  of  War — Haughty  Treatment — 
Council  at  Yincenncs — Almost  a  Fight — Departure  of  Harrison  for  the  Indian 
Village — Encampment  on  the  Tippecanoe — The  Attack — The  Battle — Defeat  cf 
the  Prophet — The  Prophet's  Generalship — Peace  in  Indiana — Gov.  Harrison's 
Courage — Tecumseh  Returns — Gives  the  Prophet  a  Shaking — The  Chief  Joins 
the  British — Indians  Spoiling  for  a  Fight — Tecumseh's  Independence — The  Bat- 
tle— Death  of  Tecumseh — Gen.  Harrison's  Military  Reputation — Conduct  As- 
persed— Vindicated — Resignation — Political  Success — The  Log  Cabin  and  Hard 
Cider  Campaign — Sudden  Death  

CHAPTEE  VIII. 
COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 
Bis  Family  and  Birth — Childhood — Hired  Out — Runs  Home — Three  Da^^s  at  Soool 
— Why  He  Left — How  He  Returned — School  Again — A  Wedding  in  Prospect 
— Skill  as  a  Marksman — Jilted — Disconsolate — Married — Soldier  Life — Loses 
His  Wife — Marries  Another — Made  a  Magistrate — Elected  Colonel  of  Militia— 
Member  of  the  State  Legislature — Losses  in  Business — Removal  to  the  "Shakes" 
■■ — His  Rifle,  Betsy — A  Bear  Fight — In  the  Legislature  Again — Electioneering — 
Stump  Speeches — Opposition  to  Jackson — More  Bear  Hunting — A  Business 
Venture — A  Narrow  Escape— Elected  to  Congress — A  Pleasure  Trip  North — 
Enthusiastic  Reception — "Go  Ahead" — Ten  Quarts  of  Rum  for  a  Coon-skin — 
Job  Snelling's  Honesty — Defeated — Thimblerig — Encounter  with  a  Cougar — 
Enters  San  Antonio — Defense  cf  the  Alamo — A  Skirmish — Storming  of  the 
Alamo — Surrender — Barbarity  of  Santa  Anna — Death  of  Crockett   .  167 

CHAPTEE  IX. 
GENERAL  SAM  HOUSTON, 
fiarly  Settlement  of  Texas— The  Austins — Difficulties  Besetting  the  Colonists — 
Death  of  the  Elder  Austin — Lafitte,  the  Pirate — Stephen  F.  Austin— The 
Fredonia  Trouble — ^Murder  of  Hunter — Houston's  Early  Life — Serves  with 
Jackson  in  the  Creek  War — Severe  Wounds — High  Honors— Governor  of  Ten- 
nessee— Sudden  and  Unaccountable  Departure — Colonel  Bowie — A  Fight  on 
a  Sand-bar — Search  for  Silver^  Mines — Attacked  by  the  Indians — President 
Santa  Anna — Austin's  Mission  to  Mexico — Ijnprisonraent  and  Trial  for  Treason 
— Released — War  Approaching — Houston  Made  Commander-in-Chief— Siege 
of  the  Alaaio  by  the  Texans — The  Grass  Fight — Storming  of  the  Alamo — Death 
of  Colonel  Travis — Death  of  Colonel  Bowie — Goliad — Brutal  Massacre  of  the 
Prisoners— Battle  of  San  Jacinto — Ignominious  Capture  of  General  Santa 
Anna — Acknowledges  the  Independence  of  Texas — Houston  Elected  President 
— Death  of  Austin — Mexican  Raids — Snively  Expedition — Texas  Enters  the 
United  States — Houston  Elected  U.  S.  Senator — Opposes  Secession — Resigns 
Office  of  Governor — Death   195 

CHAPTEE  X. 
KIT  CARSOK 

A  Boy  Hunter — In  New  Mexico— Surgery  on  the  Plains — Trapping-^Indian  Horse 
Thieves — Pursuit  by  Trappers — ladian  Thieves  Attacked  Successfully — A!Nar- 


viii 


CONTENTS, 


row  Escape — Pursuing  the  Horse  Thief— Fight  with  Two  Bears — ^XJp  a  Tree — 
Fight  with  Indians — Carson  Saves  His  Friend — A  Duel  with  a  Braggart — At- 
tack on  Indians — Carson's  Brave  Generosity — Encounter  with  Mountain  Lion 
— Another  Indian  Battle—- The  War  Dance — Hunter  for  Bent's  Fort — The 
Peacemaker — The  Indian  Wife — John  C.  Fremont— Exploring  Expeditions— 
Incidents  of  the  Journey — The  Frenchmen's  Jealousy  of  Carson — The  Return 
— Carson  Settles  in  Kew  Mexico — On  Another  Trip  with  Fremont — Searching 
for  the  Imaginary — Crossing  the  Mountains — Dismal  Warnings — The  Indian 
Guide  Deserts — Severe  Hardships — Accomplish  the  Passage — Carson  Rescues 
Fremont — Fremont's  Third  Expedition — The  Mexican  War  Threatens — News 
from  Home — Camp  Attacked  by  Indians — Revenge — Destroying  Indian  Vil- 
lage— Fremont  Saves  Carson — A  Wary  Old  Warrior  Foiled — Carson  Sent  to 
Washington — Meets  Gen.  Kearney,  and  Returns  with  Him — Severe  Fight  with 
Mexicans — A  Heroic  Journey — Close  of  the  War — Fremont's  Fourth  Expedi- 
tion— Indian  Horse  Thieves  Again — Saves  Two  Merchants  from  Desperadoes 
^A  Captive  in  Indian  Hands — Brigadier-General — Death  .  226 

CHAPTEE  XI. 
GEK  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 
A  Tennesseean — Intended  to  be  a  Sailor — But  Commissioned  Lieutenant  in  the  Army 
— Service  in  the  South — Lafitte  and  His  Pirates — An  Encounter  with  Them — 
In  St.  Louis — An  Indian  Council — O'Fallon's  Rashness — Race  with  an  Indian 
— Another  Race — How  an  Offender  Escaped  a  Whipping,  and  Capt.  Harney's 
Anger  was  Cooled  by  a  Ducking — Black  Hawk — The  War — An  Indian  Vic- 
tory— A  Reconnoissance — Defeat  of  Black  Hawk — Capt.  Harney's  Marriage — 
To  Florida— The  Seminoles — Repulse  of  the  Indians — Osceola — The  Treaty 
Broken — Harney's  Influence — A  Treacherous  Night  Attack — Escape  through 
the  Woods — Useless  Bloodhounds — Fight  in  the  Everglades — End  of  the  Florida 
War — The  Mexican  War — Rival  Generals'  Jealousies — Gallantry  at  Cerre 
Gordo — Brevetted  Brigadier-General — Indian  Troubles  on  the  Borders — Bun- 
combe— In  Oregon — Return  to  St.  Louis — The  Civil  War  Begins — Urged  to 
Join  the  Confederate  Army — Retired  from  Service — Member  of  the  Indian 
Peace  Commission   271 

CHAPTEE  XII. 
GEN.  GEORGE  A  CUSTER. 
Boyhood— A  Cadet— Strict  Discipline— "Walking  Extras"— A  Fair  Fight— The 
Officer  of  the  Guard  is  Sent  to  the  Guard  House — Court-Martialed — Never 
Hears  the  Decision — A  Reconnoissance — The  Superior's  Report — The  Subordi- 
nate did  the  Work — His  Reward — A  Gallant  Charge — The  Boy  General — Pop- 
ularity— A  Runaway  in  Washington — Westward,  Ho ! — Gen.  Hancock's  Expe- 
dition— The  Birds  are  Flown — A  Buffalo  Hunt— The  Buffalo  Escapes,  and  the 
Horse  is  Killed — Satanta — Custer's  First  Lessons  in  Indian  Nature — The  Attack 
on  the  Wagon-Train— Comstock,  the  Scout — The  Kidder  Massacre — Rapid 
Marching — Court-Martialed — Suspended — Restored  by  Request  of  Officers — 
California  Joe — Origin  and  Experiences — Condemned  to  the  Torture — Saved 
•—The  Rescue  of  the  White  Girl — A  Winter  Campaign — March  through  the 
Snow-storm — Reconnoitering — The  Attack  on  the  Cheyenne  Village — The 
Seventh  Cavalry  Congratulated — Custer  Hurries  up  an  Indian  Moving — Rescue 
of  Captives — Submission  of  the  Indians— Ordered  to  the  East — Buffalo  Hunting 


CONTENTS. 


with  the  Grand  Duke— To  the  West  Again— The  Triangle  Ride— A  Fight— 
The  Black  Hills  Expedition — Capture  and  Trial  of  Rain-in-the-Face — Custer 
Summoned  to  Washington — Executive  Vengeance — The  March  to  the  Little 
Big  Horn — Plan  of  Attack — More  Than  They  Bargained  For— Reno's  Repulse 
— Each  Waiting  for  Help  from  the  Other — No  Help,  No  Hope — "We  Have 
Killed  Them  All"   297 

CHAPTEEXIIL 
WILD  BILL. 

PescHption — Learning  to  Shoot — His  First  Treasure — Shooting  Wolves — To  Kan- 
sas— Joins  Lane's  Company — Astonishes  the  Natives  by  His  Marksmanship — 
Winning  a  Name — Farmer — Stage  Driver — The  Best  Shot  on  the  Plains — At- 
tack on  Indians — Encounter  with  a  Bear — Fight  with  the  McCandlas  Gang — 
Brigade  Wagon-Master — In  Disgrace — Retrieval — Sharp-shooting  at  Pea  Ridge 
— ^^A  Spy — Entering  the  Confederate  Lines  Again — Daring  Escape — A  Spy 
Again — Discovered — In  Prison — A  Sleepy  Guard — Burns  His  Bonds — How  He 
Got  Black  Nell — A  Mean  Indian  Trick — Duel  with  Conquering  Bear — Fight 
with  Four  Men — Chief  of  Scouts — Kills  Black  Kettle — Wounded — A  Lively 
Marshal  of  Hays  City — Fight  with  Fifteen  Soldiers — Escape,  Terrihly  Wounded 
— A  Plan  for  Making  Money — Dead  Broke — Marshal  of  Abilene — A  Texan's 
ll^evenge — Jumping  for  Life — On  the  Stage — No  Fun  Allowed,  so  He  Leaves  in 
Disgust — The  Black  Hills — Marriage — In  Deadwood — Foully  Murdered — 
Wild  Bill's  Character— Trial  and  Execution  of  His  Murderer  .      .  355 

CHAPTEE  XIV. 
BUFFALO  BILL. 

Boyhood — The  California  Gold  Fever — Kansas  Troubles — A  Hero  for  Imitation^ 
Billings  as  a  Bocai^ro—  Saving  his  Father — A  Fight  at  School — Herding — At- 
tacked by  the  Indians — Billy's  First  Redskin — Defended  by  Wild  Bill — A 
Breastwork  of  Dead  Mules — A  Broken  Leg — Alone  in  the  Dug-out — Saved  by 
j^iain-in-the-Face — Pony  Express  Rider — Attack  on  the  Stage-Coach — The  Horse 
Thieves*  Den — Escape — One  of  Chandler's  Gang — Scouting — Enlisted — Mar- 
riage— Hotel-Keeping — Scouting  Again — Frightened  Darkies — Half-Owner  of 
a  Town— The  Town  Moves  and  Cody  Breaks — The  Spunky  Tenth  Cavalry 
Again — Employed  as  Hunter — Four  Thousand  Two  Hundred  Buffalos  in  Eigh- 
teen Months — A  5;ace  for  Life — At  Bay — The  Fire  Signal — A  Buffalo-Killing 
Match — Comstock  Badly  Beaten — "  How,  How!" — Indian  Humor — Which  Bill 
Does'nt  Appreciate — A  Trustworthy  Messenger — Flight — Bringing  Meat  into 
Camp — Breaking  in  a  New  Lieutenant — The  Fifth  Cavalry  Victorious — Shoot- 
ing Tall  Bull — Justice  Cody — Eastern  Hunting  Parties — An  Imperial  Pupil — 
How  the  Grand  Duke  Killed  his  First  Buffalo — On  the  Stage — Member  of  the 
Legislature — Success  as  an  Actor — Scouting  Again — The  Cheyennes  Leave 
their  Reservation — But  the  Fifith  Cavalry  Induces  them  to  Return — Cody  En- 
gages an  Indian  in  Single  Combat — "  The  First  Scalp  for  Custer" — Later  Ser- 
vices       •      .      •   392 

CHAPTEE  XV. 
MODERN  INDIAN  FIGHTERS  AND  WAJtS. 
nausea  of  an  Indian  War — The  Minnesota  Massacre— Extent  of  the  Outbreak— Death 
of  Little  Crow — Fetterman's  Fate — Comstock  the  Scout—"  Ef  I  Know  Any- 
thing, it*a  Injuns"— Surprised— His  Death— Their  Reasons  for  the  Murder— The 


CONTENTS. 


Modoc  War — Captain  Jack  and  the  Commissioners — Murder  of  Gen.  Canby— 
The  Lava  Beds — Execution  of  Capt.  Jack  and  his  Accomplices — The  Bloody 
Centennial  Year — Battle  on  the  Kosebud — Gen.  Merritt — Gen.  Miles — Sitting 
Buirs  Cheek — A  Winter  Campaign — Cold  Marching  and  Hot  Fighting — ^Yel- 
lowstone Kelly—The  !Nez  Perce  Campaign— A  Chief  who  Got  Tired — Resting 
on  the  Reservation — The  Ute  Outbreak — Maj.  Thornburgh  and  his  Men — Capt, 
Payne   439 

CHAPTEE  XVI. 
APACHE  OUTBREAKS. 
A  Tough  Tribe — Gen.  Crook  in  Arizona — The  Chiricahuas — Pursuit — Surprise- 
Promises — The  Prisoners — Praise — Blame — Promises  Fulfil  led — Fate  of  Charlie 
McComas — Causes  of  1885  Outbreak — Mode  of  Warfare — The  Leader — Attack- 
ed by  the  Cowboys — Geronimo's  Nine  Lives — Captain  Crawford — Attacked  by 
Friends — The  Death  of  Crawford — Avenging  the  Captain— Escape  of  the  Hos- 
tiles — The  Conference  with  Gen.  Crook — An  Indian  Joke — Gen.  Miles — Re- 
moval of  the  Chiricahuas — Surrender  of  Geronimo — Removal  from  the  Reser- 
vation   471 

CHAPTEE  XVIL 
THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 
The  Ghost-Dance — ^^Who  was  the  Indian  Messiah  ? — The  Probability — His  Prom- 
ises— Sitting  Bull's  Opportunity — The  Indian  Belief— The  New  Earth — Vis- 
ions and  Messages — The  Omaha  Dance — Description  of  the  Ghost-Dance  by 
Eye- Witnesses — Reasons  for  Dissatisfaction  Among  the  Indians — A  Soldier's 
Testimony — A  Plot  Discovered — BuflTalo  Bill's  Mission — Rival  Weather  Proph- 
ets— Tribal  Relations  a  Source  of  Trouble — Uncertainty  as  to  Real  Sentiments 
of  Chiefs  —  The  Government  Acts  —  A  Reverend  Ambassador  —  Dissensions 
Among  the  Hostiles  —  Sitting  Bull's  Arrest  Ordered  —  Rescue  Attempted — 
Sitting  Bull  Killed— Effect  of  bis  Death— Capture  of  Big  Foot's  Band— Es- 
cape and  Pursuit  —  The  Seventh  Cavalry  Takes  the  Field  —  Disarming  of 
Big  Foot's  Band— The  Battle  of  Wounded  Knee— Father  Craft— Indian  Ven- 
geance —  Death  of  Captain  Wallace — Effect  of  Battle  on  Agency  Indians- 
Minor  Fights— Lieut.  Casey's  Death— Red  Cloud  Returns  to  the  Agency- 
More  Dissension*  Among  the  Indians — The  Hostiles  Come  In— Surrendering 
Weapons— The  Murder  of  Few  Tails— Gen.  Miles'  Explanation  of  the  War- 
Bed  Cloud's  Story   4dft 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Indians  Attacking  Booneshorough  o....  »   25 

Boone's  Indian  Toilet,., <^  ,   27 

Boone  Pursued  by  the  Lidians  o  Full  Page,  33 

Women  Getting  Water  fo?'  the  Foi^t  o   87 

An^ival  of  Reinforcements   89 

The  Tobacco  Stratagem...,.,   0....0   43 

The  Hunter's  Paixidise  ,  Full  Page,  45 

The  Grave  of  Boone  0  ,   48 

Kenton  Rescuing  Boone  »  o   52 

Kenton'' s  Mazeppa  Ride  <.   55 

Desperate  Effort  to  Escape  o   67 

Simon  GiHy,  the  Renegade,   61 

Lewis  Wetzel  Loading  While  Running — Him  gun  always  loaded^'   71 

Wetzel's  Escape  frojn  the  Guard.,  Full  Page,  77 

Jacob  Wetzel  Saved  by  his  Dog   80 

Andy  Poe's  Fight  with  Bigfoot  Full  Page,  83 

MeCulloch's  Leap   87 

An  Indian's  First  Introduction  to  the  Manly  Ai^t   91 

The  Death  Tortures  of  Col,  William  Crawford   98 

An  Indian  Council  Full  Page, 

Slaughtering  Her  Captors  ,  108 

The  White  Squaw's  Shot  Full  Page,  117 

A  Pioneer  Woman's  Defeiise  of  Her  Home  Full  Page,  123 

A  Frontier  Hero  and  Heroine  o  125 

The  Osages'  Father-in-law..  „  128 

A  Close  Shave  132 

Killing  the  Thief,  138 

Geyieral  Wm,  H.  Harrison  c  ,  144 

Elskwatawa,     The  PropheV  147 

Tecumseh  o  o  153 

The  Prophet's  Visit  to  General  Han^son  Full  Page,  154 

Death  of  Tecumseh  o  163 

Tecumseh  Rallying  the  Tribes  c  165 

David  Crockett  171 

Crockett  on  the  Stump.  o  174 

Crockett's  Fight  with  a  Bear  c  ,  c  177 

Shipwrecked  on  the  Rivei^  181 

Crockett's  First  Buffalo  Hunt  187 

Desperate  Fight  with  a  Cougar,  .....188 

General  Cos   189 

Storming  of  the  Alamo  o....  190 

'Defense  of  the  Alamo  191 

Death  of  Crockett.........  Full  Page,  193 

Monuinent  to  the  Defenders  of  the  Alamo  c  194 

L afitte.,  the  Pirate.    ,  „  198 

The  Murder  of  Hunter  200 

Houston  Wounded  in  the  Creek  War  202 

General  Santa  Anna    206 

A  Texan  Ranger  ,  209 

General  Sam  Houston  „  ...o  212 

Houston  Dictating  Orders  , ,  ,  SI6 

Houston  at  San  Jacinto  217 

The  Finding  of  "  The  Mighty  and  Glorious^'  218 

Santa  Anna  Before  Houston  ,  219 

Surgery  on  the  Plains  Tr;  227 

Christopher  Carson.  «  o  »  229 

Indian  Capturing  Horses  o  c  o..230 

A  Narrow  Escape.   o..,.  232 

The  Pursuit  of  the  Horse  Thief  234 

A  Fight  With  Grizzlies  o  =...235 

The  Summer  Ren  dezvous  c  0  ,  Full  Page,  237 

Carson's  Duel  with  the  Braggart,.,**  »   239 

Defending  a  Fallen  Comrade^  0  *  **...g41 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Indian  War  Dance  ,  

A  Pawnee  Chief  in  Full  Costume  ,  

Carsoii's  House  at  Taos  «.«.».•.•..•••••••••.•..., 

Fremont  Rescued  by  Carson  ...ca.........  

Indians  Discovering  the  Train  .....Full  Page, 

The  Stealthy  Night  Attack  ...e..c.....  Full  Page, 

Carson  Saved  by  Fremont  

Mexican  Towns  Surrendering  to  General  Kearney  Full  Page, 

ijren,  John  C,  Fremont  

Gen,  Wm,  S,  Harney  ,  -«  o.... 

Harney's  Race  with  the  Indian  

Another  Race  and  a  Cold  Bath  !  

Black  Hawk  

Osceola    o.,...  «  

A  Treaty  of  War  

Billy  Bowlegs  

In  the  Everglades  c«.  

Gen,  Winfield  S,  Scott.,,. o  

Gen,  Geo,  A,  Custer  c.  •.  

Indians  Viewing  the  Pacific  Railroad  Full  Page, 

Hunter  Charged  by  Buffalo  Full  Page, 

Custer's  Interview  with  Pawjiee  Killer  

The  Eveyiing  Concert  Full  Page, 

The  Attack  on  the  Waqon  Train  Full  Page, 

The  Work  of  Devils. y.  .Full  Page, 

Gen.  Philip  H  Shei^idan  ,.....c......  ..„.....•«.«■. .<......o  

Calif 07'nia  Joe  ,  

The  Surpidse  of  the  Cheyenne  Village  Full  Page, 

The  Messenger  of  Defeat  „  

Custer's  Indian  Scouts  Celebrating  Victory  ...Full  Page,  832 

Satanta  c.r.. ........  ...Full  Page,  334 

Lone  Wolf  Head  Chief  of  the  Kiow  as  »  Full  Page,  335 

A  Buffalo  Hunt  c  .338 

The  Triangle  Ride  ...™..».e.„....  c  .Full  Page,  340 

Capture  of  Rain-in-the-Face  344 

Rain-in-the-Face.,.  ,  Full  Page,  347 

Sitting  Bull  ,  350 

"  We  have  killed  them  alll^' — The  Messenger  of  Victory,.  352 

Temporary  Monument  on  the  Site  of  Custer'* s  Last  Fight  ,  Full  Page,  353 

Wild  Bill  Shooting  Wolves  35(3 

Wild  Bill  (J.  B,  Hickok)  .c  .....359 

Wild  Bill's  Fight  with  the  Bear  361 

Fight  with  the  McCandlas  Gang  .........363 

Taking  to  the  Water  ,  .,.o..e367 

Killing  the  Sleeping  Sentinel  ...c...,..c.  c.,,^.cooce,«.371 

Conquering  Bear  cc«. oo*. e.€>«co^.. ...s.*..... 375 

Spoiling  for  a  Fight  ...377 

''Ain't  you  satisfied  ?  "  ...379 

Wild  bill's  Fight  with  Fifteen  Soldiers  .....383 

The  Murder  of  Wild  Bill.....  390 

Billy  Kills  His  First  Indian  ....c  .397 

Departure  of  the  Stages   ............Full  Page,  402 

The  Attack  on  the  Stage  .......,Full  Page,  403 

Escaping  from  the  Horse  Thieves  *''-*"*"l?n 

After  the  Surprise  ...,......«.eo«...ot...e..,..*...^cr.  410 

Buffalo  Bill  { W,  F,  Cody)     .......................0  c  413 

''Keep  off!'*  A  Center  Shot   —Ijo 

Railroad  Train  Encountering  a  Herd  of  Buffaloes,  .,....*..c...Fal!  Page,  419- 

''How,  how!'*  .,.o......c.,.*...,  -  421 

Buffalo  Bill  and  his  Horse  Brigham.  **.Full  Page,  424 

Making  Buffaloes  Furnish  their  Own  Transportation  .e......o..o»  .425 

The  Shootma  of  Tall  Bull   ..c.,....c.c...e,.cc.,..«..e.....  c.o...,.....428 

*^Look  out  429 


LIST  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Showing  the  Grand  DuTce  how  to  Kill  Buffaloes  431 

An  Arrow  Through  a  Buffalo,,*,  ••••••••••••••««••••••••••«••«••••  .433 

Texas  Jack  {J,  B,  Omohundro)  ••••  •••••••••••••••••••••••••••  434 

The  First  Scalp  for  Custer,  •  „.,.,  .437 

Massacre  of  Minnesota  Settlers,,,,,,  oFull  Page,  438 

The  Ideal  Indian  •«.*^*.*.o**«.»»...«*.**««*»»«»*«»«.***««......««..  489 

The  Real  Article  •••  •  •  ,  «  >....440 

Gen,  H.  H.  Sibley,  442 

A  Dakota  Chief,  444 

Conference  between  U,S,  Coynmissioyiers  and  Indians  •  .446 

On  the  War-path  Full  Page,  448 

Gen,  SturgiSy  the  Famous  hidian  Fighter,  •  •  449 

Gen,  E,R,  S,  Canby  *  450 

Massacre  of  Peace  Commissioners  by  Modocs  Full  Page,  451 

The  Modoc  Stronghold  Full  Page,  453 

Captain  Jack  ,  454 

The  Fight  in  the  Lava  Beds  •  Full  Page,  455 

Hooker  Jim  457 

Schonchin  457 

Boston  Charley  •  •  457 

Shack  Nasty  Jim  457 

Gen,  C,  H.  Crook  ,   458 

The  Battle  on  the  Rosebud,^  ^  •  Full  Page,  459 

An  Oasis  in  the  Desert,.,,.  •  Full  Page,  463 

The  Indian  Camp  463 

Gen,  Wesley  MerHtty  Colonel  of  the  5th  U,  8,  Cavalry  466 

Gen,  O,  O,  Howard  467 

Capt,  D,  L.  Payne.  c  468 

Death  of  Major  Thornburgh  Full  Page,  460 

Emigrants  Def&nding  Themselves  against  an  Indian  Attack,  ,  472 

Treating  for  Peace  with  Gen,  Crook  474 

Surrender  of  the  Chiricahuas  and  their  Captives  Full  Page,  475 

Charlie  McComas  476 

GeronimOf  War  Chief  of  the  Apaches  478 

Apaches  on  a  Raid  •  Full  Page,  481 

Capt.  Crawford,  483 

Dutchy^-  the  Avenger  of  Capt,  Crawford^ s  Death  .*487 

Gen,  Nelson  A,  Miles  ,  491 

Apaches  Scalping  /So^ier^..,««f»*«*«M*tf»*«ttt*»t».«««««  «•  492 

Sitting  Bull,  Chief  of  the  Sioux  Indians  e<»o  49T 

Sitting  Bull  Addressing  His  Followers  Full  Page,  500 

The  Ghost-Dance  Full  Page,  504 

Concentrating  Infantry  at  the  Seat  of  War.  >  509 

American  Horse  r  ..  513 

The  Squaw  Man  Visited  by  His  Wife's  Relations  Full  Page,  518 

Gen,  Miles  and  Hi,  Escort,  Full  Page,  522 

Capt,  Geo.  D,  Wakuce  529 

Defending  the  Wagon^Train   -  Full  Page,  534 


CHAPTER  I. 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

A COMPETENT  authority  says  that  at  least  thirty  places  in 
the  United  States  bear  the  name  of  Daniel  Boone,  the  best 
known  pioneer,  perhaps,  of  the  country;  certain  it  is  that  eight 
states  contain  counties  thus  designated — monuments  of  love  and 
admiration  for  a  man  upon  whose  like  we  shall  not  look  again. 

Born  in  Western  Virginia  or  Pennsylvania,  in  1735,  his  earliest 
years  were  spent  in  the  unsettled  forests.  His  father  removed  to 
the  banks  of  the  Eadkin  Eiver,  in  North  Carolina,  when  he  was 
but  a  boy.  He  had  already  acquired  something  of  that  skill  with 
the  rifle,  so  necessary  to  the  frontiersman,  and  for  which  he  be- 
came so  eminent.  When  a  very  young  man,  he  saw  a  pair  of  large, 
soft  eyes  gleaming  in  a  thicket;  the  ready  gun  was  leveled  and 
fired,  but  the  deer  bounded  aside ;  with  quick  foot  the  young 
hunter  followed  his  game  through  the  wood,  and  at  last  came  to 
a  clearing,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  a  settler's  cabin ;  in  this 
he  sought  shelter  for  the  night,  and  it  was  not  refused  him;  to 
do  the  honors  to  the  young  stranger,  the  members  of  the  family 
hushed  the  excitement  which  had  prevailed  among  them ;  but 
they  had  not  acquired  the  power  of  entirely  coi^cealing  their  feel- 
ings, and  he  soon  learned  that,  as  the  daughter  of  the  house  and 
her  little  brother  were  returning  through  the  woods  from  a  neigh- 
bor's, some  one,  Indian  or  white  man  they  could  not  tell,  had  fired 
at  them,  and  chased  them  almost  to  the  very  door. 

Boone  listened  to  the  recital,  and  for  once  was  glad  that  he  had 
missed  his  aim.  But  though  unsuccessful  as  a  hunter  in  bringing 
down  his  game,  better  luck  attended  his  elforts  as  a  lover,  and  a 
long  ai.d  happy  life  followed  the  marriage  which  took  place  soon 
afterward,  between  him  and  the  owner  of  the  soft  eyes  that  had 
deceived  him. 

But  sparsely  settled  as  it  was,  the  state,  in  a  few  years,  became 
too  populous  for  the  exercise  of  a  hunter's  vocation,  and  Boone 


16 


£JOLONEI  DANIEL  BOONE. 


determined  to  remove  to  a  wilder  country.  In  the  early  part  of 
May,  1769,  he,  in  company  with  John  Stewart  and  four  other 
men,  left  his  home  in  ISTorth  Carolina  and  journeyed  towards  the 
"  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground,^'  west  of  Virginia,  and  lying  between 
the  homes  of  the  northwestern  and  the  southern  tribes  of  Indians. 

This  country,  long  before 
known  to  the  savages  as 
Xantuckee,  was  regarded 
by  them  as  neutral  ground, 
not  to  be  used  as  a  habita 
tion  by  those  of  either 
section.  As  a  natural  con- 
sequence of  this,  it  became 
the  wandering  place  of 
^ast  herds  of  buffalo  and 
ieer,  the  wild  duck  linger- 
ed in  its  streams,  the  wild 
turkeys  dwelt  on  its  hills, 
and  the  forests  were  full 
of  life.  A  paradise  for  the 
sportsman,  truly  ;  and  the 
wild  huaters  of  the  sur- 
rounding tribes  had  long 
ago  discovered  this.  This 
was  the  destination  of 
many  of  their  great  hunt- 
ing parties,  and  *here, 
when  North  and  South 
met  upon  this  common  ter- 
ritory, many  a  bloody 
conflict  justified  the  name 
they  had  given  to  it.  To 
DANIEL  BOONE.  thc  wild  meu  of  the  woods 

the  possession  of  a  hunting  ground  meant  subsistence;  the  pres- 
ence of  the  white  man,  destruction.  Their  fathers  had  been  driv- 
en  toward  the  sunset  far  enough ;  here  they  would  stay;  and  arm- 
ing themselves  with  all  the  grim  determination  that  an  Indian ' 
could  summon,  they  fought  the  white  men  who  invaded  their 
land. 

The  six  men  who  left  the  banks  of  the  Eadkin  Eiver  in  the 
Spring  of  1769,  were  determined  to  establish  themselves  in  the 


WtONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


western  paradise  |  and  although  not  forgetful  of  the  danger  that 
awaited  them,  they  pushed  defiantly  forward.  Early  in  June 
they  reached  the  Eed  Eiver,  and  there  encamped,  living  on  the 
game  which  they  killed,  and  the  fruits  which  abounded  in  the  un- 
cultivated regions,  better  fare  than  French  cook  ever  prepared^ 
for  hungry  borderers.  Of  the  adventures  of  nearly  seven  months 
we  know  nothing ;  the  triumphs  of  the  hunter,  and  the  pioneer^s 
ascape  from  danger  are  forgotten ;  absolutely  no  chronicle  of  this 


CAPTtTRE  OF  BOONE  AKD  STEWART, 


time  remains  to  us.  Dec.  22nd  of  the  same  year  is  a  more  men^ 
orable  date,  for  then,  to  use  the  old  hunter^s  own  words :  "  John 
Stewart  and  I  had  a  pleasing  ramble,  but  fortune  changed  th# 
scene/' 


18 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONEc 


It  was  nearly  the  evening  of  the  short  December  day,  when,  as 
the  two  hunters  ascended  a  slight  eminence  overlooking  the  Ken- 
tucky river,  a  party  of  Indians  rushed  from  a  neighboring  cane- 
brake,  surrounded  and  captured  them.  For  seven  days  they  were 
prisoners,  uncertain  what  fate  awaited  them.  Had  there  been 
nothing  else,  the  natural  enmity  of  the  two  races  might  have 
decided  the  fate  of  the  captives  adversely;  but  the  cool  and 
manly  bearing  of  Boone  doubtless  impressed  the  savage  who  so 
much  desired  those  qualities  for  himself.  At  any  rate,  the  entire 
absence  of  resistance  lulled  the  captors  into  a  false  security,  and 
they  slept,  leaving  the  prisoners  unbound.  Eising  from  his  place 
so  lightly  as  not  to  disturb  the  Indians  about  him,  Boone  sought 
out  his  companion,  silently  aroused  him,  and  together  they  fled. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  the  dismay  which  was  in  that  circle  of  war- 
riors the  next  morning !  "Whether  the  captives'  fate  ras  to  have 
been  torture  or  adoption  (the  usual  alternatives)  the  disappoint- 
ment was  equally  great;  they  had  been  robbed  of  enjoyment,  or 
their  friendship  had  been  rejected. 

Arriving  at  the  camp  where,  a  week  before,  they  had  left  their 
four  companions,  they  found  it  despoiled  of  all  the  implements  of 
pioneer  life,  and  no  trace  of  their  friends.  These,  probably  ter- 
rified by  the  mishap  of  Boone  and  Stewart,  had  departed  from 
the  dangers  of  that  country  forever.  The  others,  however,  were 
of  sterner  stuff ;  if  danger  dwelt  in  the  wilderness,  there  was  hap- 
piness, too,  and  they  had  no  notion  of  missing  the  one  by  shun- 
ning the  other. 

Before  long,  however,  there  came  new  companions.  "Wander- 
ing through  the  forest,  in  search  of  Boone,  came  his  brother 
Squire  and  another  adventurer.  The  veriest  stranger  would  have 
been  welcomed  by  the  lonely  hunters,  and  we  may  conjecture  the 
reception  that  awaited  Squire  Boone.  But  the  little  band  of 
hunters  were  soon  to  be  reduced  to  the  same  number  as  before, 
Yor  Stewart  was  killed  by  the  Indians  late  in  the  winter  or  early 
in  the  spring,  and  the  man  who  had  accompanied  Squire  Boone 
returned  home. 

The  two  brothers  were  now  left  alone  in  the  wilderness.  .What- 
ever dangers  may  have  beset  them,  they  escaped  ;  and  building 
a  cottage  to  defend  themselves  from  the  storms  of  winter,  for  sev- 
eral  months  they  lived  sufficient  for  each  other.  Whether  the 
modesty  which  characterizes  true  courage  prevents  Boone  from 
telling  us  the  perils  of  this  year,  or  whether  his  self-reliance,  iiia 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


J9 


coolnees,  his  forethought,  united  to  his  bravery  and  his  excel- 
lence in  woodcraft  inspired  the  savages  with  such  respect  that 
they  let  the  brothers  live  in  peace,  we  cannot  tell;  but  he  speaks 
of  their  enjoyment  of  this  life. 

The  first  of  May,  1770,  Squire  Boone  set  oif  to  the  settlements, 
in  order  to  obtain  horses  and  ammunition,  Daniel  being  left  at 
the  camp,  without  bread,  salt  or  sugar.  More  than  the  lack  of 
these  articles  of  food  was  the  entire  absence  of  companionship ; 
not  a  horse  or  a  dog  cheered  his  solitude,  and  yet  the  unlettered 
woodsman  found  pleasure  in  the  vast  wilderness.  Eoaming  away 
from  the  lonely  cabin,  he  spent  days  and  nights  in  the  trackless 
forest,  returning  to  find  that  the  foe  had  come  in  his  absence. 
Often  he  lay  throughout  the  night  in  thick  canebrakes,  in  order 
that  he  might  not  be  present  to  receive  such  visits ;  and  here  the 
prowling  wolves  made  night  hideous,  so  that  he  dared  not  sleep 
too  soundly.  But  though  he  so  fully  appreciated  the  dangers  by 
which  he  was  surrounded,  and  so  carefully  guarded  himself  from 
them,  it  ended  there  ;  fear  had  no  part  in  his  nature,  and  he  was 
fully  able  to  appreciate  the  beauty  in  the  pathless  woods,'^  for 
no  abject  terror  of  the  denizens  of  the  forest  disturbed  the  calm 
balance  of  his  mind. 

Towards  the  end  of  July  his  brother  returned,  and  not  think- 
ing it  safe  to  remain  in  that  place  any  longer,  they  shifted  their 
quarters  to  the  banks  of  the  Cumberland  Eiver,  whence  in  March, 
1771,  he  returned  home  in  order  to  bring  his  family  to  the  wild 
home  he  had  chosen. 

Much  time,  however,  wa^  consumed  in  the  necessary  prepara- 
tions ;  but  at  last  the  farm  was  sold,  horses  and  supplies  pur- 
chased, and  in  September,  1773,  they  left  the  v...  ome  for  the 
new.  At  PowelFs  Valley,  they  were  joined  by  five  other  families, 
and  a  company  of  forty  able-bodied  men,  the  whole  party  being 
well  equipped  with  provisions  and  ammunition.  In  high  spirits 
they  journeyed  onward,  meeting  with  no  accident  or  alarm  until 
October  6,  nearly  two  weeks  from  the  time  that  the  Boone  family 
left  home.  On  this  day,  as  they  were  approaching  Cumberland 
Gap,  a  pass  in  the  mountains,  the  young  men  who  were  driving  the 
cattle,  and  who  had  fallen  five  or  six  miles  in  the  rear  of  the  main 
body,  were  suddenly  attacked  by  the  Indians.  Six  of  their  num- 
ber were  slain,  one  being  the  eldest  son  of  Daniel  Boone  ;  a  seventh 
escaped  with  a  wound ;  the  cattle  were  all  dispersed  in  the  woods. 
The  reports  of  the  rifles  recalled  the  main  body  of  pioneers,  but 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


it  was  too  late  J  the  savages  had  vanished  before  they  could  come 
up ;  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  bury  the  dead. 

Disheartened  by  this  sad  experience,  many  of  the  men,  in  the 
council  held  immediately  after,  urged  a  return  to  the  settlements. 
Despite  his  own  sad  loss,  however,  Boone  strenuously  opposed 
this,  and  was  earnestly  supported  by  his  brother  3  but  even  their 
united  persuasions  were  or  no  avail;  and  yielding  to  the  argu- 
ments of  the  majority,  they  returned  with  the  whole  party  to  the 
settlement  on  the  Clinch  Eiver,  in  the  southwestern  part  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  forty  miles  from  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 

Boone  always  regarded  himself  as  an  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  Providence  to  effect  the  settlement  of  Kentucky;  but  the  tim- 
idity of  his  companions  at  this  point  in  his  life  averted  a  great 
danger.  If  the  advice  of  the  two  brothers  had  prevailed,  there 
would  have  been  left  not  one  to  tell  the  story  of  an  Indian  mas- 
sacre. It  was  in  consequence  of  the  murder  of  the  family  of 
Logan,  the  eloquent  Indian  chief  whose  own  words  tell  his  mis- 
fortunes better  than  any  others  could,  that  the  terrible  Dunmore 
War  broke  out  early  in  the  year  1774. 

It  was  after  the  beginning  of  this  war,  but  before  it  had  attain- 
ed its  height,  that  Gov.  Dunmore  of  Virginia  solicited  Boone  and 
a  companion  woodsman  to  go  to  the  falls  of  the  Ohio  and  con- 
duct thence  a  party  of  engineers,  whom  he  had  sent  there  some 
months  before.  This  task  was  performed  with  safety  and  des- 
patch, a  round  trip  of  eight  hundred  miles  being  accomplished 
in  sixty-two  days. 

After  his  return,  the  war  being  now  at  its  height,  Boone  was 
given  the  command  of  three  contiguous  garrisons  on  the  frontier. 
After  this  fight,  in  which  about  fifteen  hundred  warriors  of  the 
Shawnees,  De^  u^res,  Mingos,  Wyandots  and  Cayugas  were  de- 
feated by  the  whites,  these  tribes  sued  for  peace,  relinquishing 
all  title  to  Kentucky.  The  Six  Nations,  by  treaty,  and  the  Cher- 
okees,  by  sale,  had  dispossessed  themselves  previously  to  this 
time ;  so  that  when  Boone  took  his  family  and  household  gods 
into  Kentucky,  it  was  into  a  region  abandoned  by  its  native  lords 
to  the  white  men. 

Boone  had  been  present  at  the  making  of  the  treaty  by  which 
the  Cherokees  sold  their  lands,  being  sent  to  represent  the  pur- 
chasers, a  company  of  adventurous  speculators  of  which  a  per- 
sonal friend.  Col.  Eichard  Henderson,  was  the  moving  spirit.  In- 
deed, it  was  in  consequence  of  the  hardy  pioneer's  glowing  ac- 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


count  of  Kentucky,  its  rich  plains  and  game-abounding  forests, 
that  many  such  companies  had  been  formed  in  Virginia  and 
Korth  Carolina,  for  the  purpose  of  colonization. 

A  small  company  of  brave  and  hardy  men  was  soon  collected, 
and  sent,  under  the  leadership  of  Boone,  to  open  a  road  from  the 
Holston  to  the  Kentucky  Eiver,  and  to  build  a  fort  where  Otter 
Creek  empties  itself  into  the  latter.  The  Indian  has  not  the  pa- 
tient, far-SQcing  courage  which  a  siege  demands  ;  his  victory  must 
be  won  by  a  single  wild  onslaught  from  his  ambush  in  the  forest, 
upon  those  who  have  no  defense  but  their  right  hands,  weaken- 
ed by  the  surprise  of  unexpected  attack.  Hewn  logs  are  bullet 
proof,  and  hence  a  sufficient  defense.  As  the  fort  built  at  Boones- 
borough  was  similar  to  those  soon  scattered  all  over  the  coun- 
try, a  description  of  that  will  be  sufficient  for  all. 

Oblong  in  shape,  the  sides  were  composed  of  cabins,  separated 
by  stockades;  the  walls  of  these  buildings  were  about  ten  or 
twelve  feet  high  on  the  outer  side,  sloping  downward  as  they 
neared  the  inner  opening.  At  each  of  the  four  corners  was  a 
building  two  stories  in  height,  and  projecting  some  two  feet  each 
way  farther  than  the  cabins  described  ;  the  second  story  extend- 
ing a  foot  and  half  or  two  feet  beyond  the  walls  of  the  ground 
floor.  These  cox'ner  buildings,  larger  and  stronger  than  the  others, 
and  called  block-houses,  were  by  their  construction  enabled  to 
command  the  whole  outer  wall  of  the  fort,  and  even  if  the  sav- 
ages had  forced  their  way  into  the  enclosure,  the  garrison  could 
for  some  time  defend  themselves  in  one  of  the  block-houses.  Two 
large  folding  gates,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  fort,  and  made  of 
thick  wooden  slabs,  provided  means  of  entering  and  leaving  the 
fort.  Of  course  enclosures  varied  in  size,  and  in  some  cases, 
only  one  o^  two  olock-houses  were  built;  the  fort  at  Boones- 
borough  lac  been  estimated  to  have  covered  a  space  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  by  two  hundred  and  sixty  feet.  Rude  as  they  were, 
these  log  cabins,  with  puncheon,  or  perhaps  earthen  floors,  built 
without  nails,  or  any  iron  whatever,  they  must  yet  have  seemed 
heaven  to  the  terrified  settler  who,  hearing  the  dread  tidings  of 
massacre  so  common  then,  fled  from  his  little  clearing  in  the 
woods,  where  a  cabin  of  the  same  kind,  but  solitary  and  insecure, 
was  his  home.  And  on  the  14th  of  June,  1774,  after  a  journey 
during  which  five  of  their  number  had  been  killed  by  the  Indians, 
and  after  laboring  more  than  two  months,  they  saw  the  fort  at 
Boonesborough  completed. 


32 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


In  September  or  October  of  the  same  year,  the  last  tie  which 
bound  Daniel  Boone  to  any  other  than  his  chosen  dwelling  place 
in  the  wilderness  was  broken ;  for  then  he  led  his  family  and  a 
few  followers  once  more  towards  that  which  his  daring  and  skill 
had  made  a  home.  Joined  in  Powell's  Yalley  by  new  recruits, 
the  little  company  consisted  of  twenty-six  men,  four  women,  and 
four  or  five  boys  and  girls.  At  the  head  of  Dick's  Eiver,  some 
few  of  these  had  separated  themselves  from  the  rest  in  order  to 
join  the  settlers  at  Harrodsburg,  in  the  interior  of  the  state;  so 
that  it  was  less  than  thirty,  perhaps  barely  twenty  persons,  who 
pushed  on  towards  Boonesborough  ;  "  my  wife  and  daughter,''  as 
the  old  man  afterwards  recorded  with  some  pride,  being  the 
first  white  women  that  ever  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky 
River.'' 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  British  officers  endeavored  in  every 
way  to  excite  the  animosity  of  the  Indians  towards  all  settlers 
in  this  region,  and  even  furnished  the  savages  with  arms  and  am- 
munition, the  little  colony  at  Boonesborough  remained  for  some 
time  undisturbed.  This  was  doubtless  due  in  part  to  Gen.  George 
Eogers  Clarke,  whom  the  Yirginia  Legislature  sent  with  a  force 
to  protect  the  western  settlements,  and  who,  rejecting  the  belt 
which  the  treacherous  savages  offered  as  a  token  of  peace,  did 
good  service  in  the  defense  of  the  colonists ;  but  much  of  the  se- 
curity must  be  explained  by  the  character  of  the  pioneers  them- 
selves. The  winter  and  spring  of  1776  were  passed  by  the  set- 
tlers in  hunting,  fishing,  clearing  and  planting.  Suddenly,  on^ 
day  in  the  winter,  as  they  were  engaged  in  their  ,  usual  work,  a 
small  band  of  marauding  Indians  appeared,  and  in  the  skirmish 
that  ensued,  one  of  the  whites  was  killed.  Then  the  red  men  de- 
parted as  suddenly  as  they  had  come,  and  the  settlers  were  un- 
molested during  the  next  half  year. 

It  was  on  the  fourteenth  of  July  of  the  same  year,  that  three 
young  girls,  Miss  Betsey  Callaway,  her  sister  Frances,  and  Dan- 
iel Boone's  daughter  Jemima,  were  in  a  canoe  on  the  Kentucky 
Eiver,  within  sight  of  Boonesborough.  Eaised  in  the  frontier 
district  of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia,  and  accustomed  for  near- 
ly two  years  to  the  pioneer  life  of  the  Kentucky  fort,  they  had 
no  fear  of  the  boundless  forest  or  the  rushing  river.  The  pre- 
sence of  danger  was  a  thing  unheeded,  because  so  intimately 
known.  But  even  a  braver  heart,  if  such  ever  beat  in  a  woman's 
breast,  would  have  quailed  at  the  sight  of  a  swarthy  form  mov- 


24 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


ing  througn  the  water,  the  slight  boat  in  which  they  were  follow- 
ing as  surely  as  though  drawn  by  some  demoniac  enchantment. 
The  terrified  girls  clung  to  each  other,  not  knowing  what  was  to 
befall  them.  Steadily  the  canoe  moved  to  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  and  now,  in  the  stream  and  the  forest,  appeared  other  dark 
faces,  gleaming  with  triumph.  "Within  the  fort,  all  seemed  for  a 
moment  confusion,  but  a  calm  intelligence  brought  order  out  of 
chaos,  and  despite  the  fact  that  their  canoe  had  been  left  on  the 
oth^T  side  of  the  river,  z  party  under  the  leadership  of  Captain 
Boone  was  soon  on  the  track  of  the  savages. 

Care,  as  well  as  swiftness,  was  necessary  3  excite  his  wrath  by 
too  merciless  a  pursuit,  and  the  tomahawk,  raised  against  those 
three  defenceless  heads,  would  make  a  failure  of  success.  More 
than  thirty  miles  the  track  was  followed,  through  the  densest 
cane  brakes  and  on  the  path  of  the  buffalo;  nearly  fifty  miles 
from  the  fort,  the  pursuers  overtook  them  just  as  they  were  kin- 
dling a  fire  to  cook.  The  watchfulness  of  the  Indians  was  not 
less  than  the  carefulness  of  the  pioneers,  for  each  saw  the  other 
at  about  the  same  time.  A  short,  sharp  report,  of  four  rifles  at 
once ;  the  red  men  fly ;  two  more  rifle  shots,  and  two  of  the  In- 
dians fall,  one  slain  by  Boone,  and  one  by  Col.  Floyd ;  the  others 
escape,  but  without  a  moccasin,  knife  or  tomahawk,  with  only 
one  shot-gun,  and  no  ammunition,  losing  of  course  their  captives. 

This  was  the  only  exciting  event  of  the  year  to  the  colony. 
From  time  to  time  a  new  member  was  added  to  their  society,  and 
everything  progressed  quietly.  Heart-rending  as  the  anxiety  of 
the  parents  must  have  been  when  the  three  girls  were  captured, 
the  alarm  thus  given  prevented,  perhaps,  a  greater  disaster. 

Even  on  the  day  of  the  capture,  some  other  parties  had  at- 
tacked several  stations ;  and  the  settlers  living  out  of  the  forts 
were  harassed ;  many  men  were  killed,  and  most  of  the  cattle 
were  destroyed.  So  general  and  great  was  the  alarm,  that  about 
three  hundred  speculators  and  adventurers  returned  to  their  old 
homes  east  of  the  mountains. 

By  April  of  the  succeeding  year,  however,  Boonesborough 
could  no  longer  claim  to  be  exempt  from  the  sieges  that  other 
forts  had  suffered,  A  hundred  Indians  gathered  about  the  fort, 
and  advanced  to  attack  it  with  all  the  horrid  din  which  incites 
them  to  conflict.  But  the  same  cool  intelligence  which  had  de- 
feated them  before,  was  against  them  now.  The  sharp  crack  of 
the  rifle,  aimed  by  the  unerring  marksmen  within,  was  but  little 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONJi* 


25 


to  their  taste,  brave  warriors  as  they  were,  and  they  soon  with- 
drew, carrying  with  them  their  dead  and  wounded.  The  settitsrs 
gnifered  slightly,  one  man  being  killed  and  four  wounded. 

But  though  the  Indians  had  raised  the  siege  so  soon  at  this 
April  attack,  they  were  not  to  remain  away  long.  On  the  4th  of 
July,  their  number  being  doubled,  they  returned.  Detachments 
were  sent  to  alarm  and  annoy  the  neighboring  settlements,  and 
thus  prevent  reinforcements  being  sent  to  Boonesborough.  For 
two  days  the  attack 
was  vigorous.  The 
twenty-two  men 
within  the  fort  saw 
with  anxious  hearts 
the  two  hundred  ^^red 
devils^'  surrounding 
them.  With  patient 
courage  they  await- 
ed the  result ;  drop- 
ped a  soldier's  tear 
over  the  one  man 
that  was  killed  dur- 
ing this  time;  tended 
their  two  wounded 
comrades;  told  each 
other  with  grim 
pleasure  that  an- 
other Indian  had 
fallen,  until  the  num- 
ber seven  had  been 
reached;  then,  sud- 
denly, with  great 
clamor,  the  Indians 
raised  the  siege,  and 
departed. 

The  neighboring  settlements,  Logan's  Fort  and  Harrodsburg, 
suffered  more  severely  than  Boonesborough ;  but  considerable 
reinforcements  strengthened  the  several  garrisons,  forty-five  men 
reaching  Boonesborough  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  and  a  hun- 
dred more  about  a  month  later.  This  increased  strength  resulted 
in  i^reater  boldness  on  the  part  of  the  settlers,  so  that  for  about  six 
f\reeks  there  were  almost  daily  skirmishes  with  the  Indians. 


LNDIA^TS  ATTACKING  BOONESBOROUGH. 


26 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


Notwithstanding  this  warlike  state  of  affairs,  the  men  pursued 
their  work  of  tilling  the  land  as  usual;  some,  of  course,  acting 
as  sentinels.  At  hunting,  a  still  more  dangerous  occupation,  but 
equally  necessary,  as  supplying  them  with  meat,  they  took  turns. 

The  procuring  a  subsistence  was  thus  at  all  times  a  dangerous 
work.  Such  was  the  case  in  January,  1778,  when  a  party  of 
thirty,  headed  by  Boone,  went  to  the  Blue  Licks  to  make  salt  for 
the  different  stations.  On  the  seventh  of  February,  while  out 
hunting  in  order  to  procure  meat  for  this  party,  he  fell  in  with  a 
party  of  a  hundred  and  two  Indian  warriors,  on  the  march  toward 
Boonesborough.  More  than  fifty  years  old,  he  could  not  outstrip 
the  fleet-footed  young  pursuers,  and  for  the  second  time  was 
captured.  What  at  first  sight  appears  a  totally  unnecessary  step 
was  now  taken;  Boone  surrendered  his  entire  party,  numbering 
twenty-seven  men ;  the  Indians  promising  safety  and  good  treat- 
ment. He  foresaw  the  result  from  the  first,  however;  the  In- 
dians were  diverted  from  their  purpose  by  the  unexpected  good 
fortune,  and  returned  home  with  their  prisoners  and  booty.  For 
this  surrender  Boone  has  been  much  censured,  and  at  a  later 
period  was  court-martialed;  but  was  honorably  acquitted,  the 
judges  deciding  that  his  course  had  undoubtedly  saved  Boones- 
borough from  attack. 

The  Shawnees  returned  to  their  principal  town.  Old  Chillicothe,  \ 
on  the  Little  Miami;  the  prisoners  sharing  the  few  comforts  and  \ 
the  many  privations  of  their  captors,  during  a  three  days'  march  '\ 
in  wet,  cold  weather.   After  a  stay  of  nearly  a  month,  the  leader 
and  ten  of  his  men  were  taken  to  Detroit,  then  held  by  the  Brit- 
ish, who,  as  before  stated,  were  the  chief  agents  in  exciting  the 
Indians  against  the  Americans.  The  ten  subalterns  were  present- 
ed to  the  commandant,  who  was  very  anxious  to  get  possession- 
of  Boone,  in  order  to  liberate  him  on  a  parole;  but  persuasions 
were  of  no  avail.  Even  a  ransom  of  a  hundred  pounds  did  not 
tempt  them ;  they  had  formed  a  particular  attachmi^nt,  and  were 
by  no  means  disposed  to  part  with  the  object  of  it.  This  affectiom 
perhaps,  was  not  returned  by  the  man  whom  it  kept  from  home 
and  family,  but  resistance  would  only  infuriate  Ihe  savages,  whose 
suspicions  he  must  allay  if  he  hoped  ever  to  escape  from  them. 

Go  back  to  Chillicothe  he  must,  and  the  fifteen  days'  march 
was  accomplished  with  submissive  cheerfulness. 

An  Indian  family  now  adopted  Boone,  with  the  usual  formal- 
ities, which,  to  quote  one  of  his  biographers,  "were  often  severe 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE.  2? 

jnid  ludicrous.  The  hair  of  the  hoad  is  plueked*otit  by  a  painful 
and  tedious  operation,  leaving' a  tuft,  three  or  four  inches  in  di* 
ameter,  on  the  crown,  for  the  scalp-lock,  which  is  cnt  and  dressed 
up  with  ribbons  and  feathers.'*  After  copious  ablutions  in  the 
river,  "  to  wash  the  white  blood  out  of  him,"  he  listens  in  the 
council  house  to  a  speech  from  the  chief  who  expatiates  upon  the 


BOONE'S  lOTIAK  TOILET. 


^honors  conferred  on  him.  His  head  and  face  having  been  paint, 
ed  in  accordance  with  the  latest  and  most  popular  style,  a  grand 
feast  concluded  the  ceremony. 

The  prisoner  bent  every  endeavor  to  pleasing  his  captors  :  often 
accompanying  them  on  bunting  parties,  they  could  not  sufficient- 
ly admire  his  skill;  this  was  less  admirable,  however,  than  in 
the  frequent  shooting  matches  ;  in  these,  they  could  not  conceal 
^their  joy  when  they  excelled  him,  or  their_envy  when  his  success 


28  COLONEL  Daniel  boonb. 

was  better  than  theirs.  Of  course  he  was  not  slow  to  learn  this, 
and  to  act  on  the  knowledge,  so  that  they  were  seldom  displeased 
at  their  adopted  son^s  excellence  with  the  rifle.  His  physical 
comfort  was  carefully  attended  to,  but  his  mental  state  must  have 
been  far  from  enviable,  for  added  to  the  anxiety  about  his  wife 
and  children  was  the  fear  that  the  station  would  be  less  safe 
and  prosperous  than  if  it  had  his  personal  care.  So  closely  was 
he  watched,  however,  that  escape  seemed  impossible* 

Having  accompanied  a  party  to  the  Scioto  Licks  to  make  salt, 
upon  his  return  he  found  a  war  party  of  four  hundred  and  fifty 
warriors  at  Chillicothe,  preparing  for  a  descent  upon  Boones- 
borough.  Everything  must  bo  risked  now  that  he  might  escape. 
Eising  at  the  usual  hunting  hour  the  next  morning,  and  provid- 
ing himself  with  one  meal's  victuals,  he  started  out  upon  a  hunt- 
ing expedition  for  the  day.  So  completely  had  he  disarmed  sus- 
picion that  no  objection  was  raised  or  even  thought  of.  Pro- 
ceeding in  the  usual  direction  until  far  out  of  sight,  he  suddenly 
turned  towards  Boonesborough,  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles  away. 
Thither  he  went  at  his  utmost  spqed,  stopping  for  nothing  during 
the  five  days  required  for  the  journey..  The  little  food  taken 
from  the  Indian  camp  was  all  the  material  sustenance  he  had  until  I 
he  reached  the  fort.  ^  ? 

As  he  feared,  ho  found  the  garrison  careless,  the  defenses  poor* 
ly  kept' up.   By  precept  and  example  he  encouraged  his  men,  I 
and  things  were  soon  in  good  condition  to  receive  the  enemy,  f 
But  while  they  were  hourly  expecting  the  lndians,  one  of  Boone's  ' 
companions  in  captivity,  having  gotten  away,  reached  the  fort  5 
with  the  intelligence  that  the  escape  of  the  pioneer  leader  had  so  : 
powerfully  affected  his  captors  that  they  had  postponed  their 
meditated  attack  for  three  weeks.   Indian  spies  filled  the  coun- 
try, and  the  whole  atmosphere  seemed  to  be  full  of  alarm.  The 
red  men  evidently  saw  that  unless  the  whites  were  utterly  exter-  | 
minated,  they  themselves  were  doomed.    It  was  in  self-defense  I 
that  the  blow  was  to  be  struck,  and  to  make  it  of  any  use  it  must  I 
be  deadly.  I 

This  was  the  Indian  reas6ning,  and  with  it  the  whites  were  \ 
perfectly  familiar.  Every  mind  was  strung  to  the  highest  pitch  | 
for  the  approaching  contest,  every  eye  and  ear  was  on  the  alart.  I 
Such  a  ^tate  of  things  cannot  long  continue;  the  tense  bow-string  \ 
must  relax;  after  a  little  while  the  settlers  were  less  vigilant.  ? 
Observing  this,  and  wishing -to jprevent  its  spread,  Boone  organ 


COLONEI-  DANIEL  BOONis. 


ized  a  T)arty  of  nineteen  of  his  brave  companions,  intending  to 
attack  one  of  the  Indian  towns  on  the  Scioto.  Cautiously  ad* 
vancing  to  within  four  or  five  miles  of  tKe  town  which  he  wished 
to  surprise,  he  met  its  thirty  warriors,  on  their  way  to  join  the 
main  Indian  force,  then  marching  toward  Boonesborough.  In  the 
"smart  fight''  which  followed,  the  whiter  lost  no  men;  the  In- 
dians a  few,  retreating  very  soon,  and  leaving  their  horses  and 
baggage  to  the  victors.  Spies  despatched  to  their  town  returned 
with  the  information  that  it  was  evacuated.  The  storm  was  gath- 
ering thick  and  fast  about  the  settlements,  and  there  was  no  time 
to  be  lost.  Back  to  Boonesborough  the  little  party  went  with  all 
speed,  passing  the  forces  of  the  enemy  the  sixth  day,  and  arriv 
ing  there  the  seventh  day  after  the  skirmish  above  described. 
On  the  succeeding  day  the  enemy  appeared  in  even  more  terri- 
ble guise  than  they  had  anticipated.  ITearly  five  hundred  war- 
riors, horrid  in  war  paint,  and  decked  with  the  ghastly  trophies 
of  their  past  victories,  advanced  towards  the  fort,  like  vultures 
approaching  the  doomed  and  innocent  flock.  But  the  wild  war- 
riors of  the  woods  had  before  this  besieged  Boonesborough  in 
equal  multitude,  and  had  retreated  from  their  undertaking  be- 
fore the  sharp  crack  of  those  unerring  rifles.  Yonder  painted 
host,  moving  through  the  forest  shadows  as  if  in  some  demoniac 
dance,  led  by  the  most  distinguished  chiefs  of  their  own  race,  was 
most  formidable  because  of  the  Canadian  Frenchmen  by  whom  it 
was  commanded.  It  was  the  voice  of  Captain  Duquesne  that  sum- 
moned the  garrison  to  "  surrender  in  the  name  of  his  Britannic 
Majesty,''  and  to  him  and  eleven  of  his  countrymen  must  the 
answer  be  made. 

Within  the  fort,  a  council  of  all  the  fightixig  men  was  hastily 
summoned — fifty  in  all !  More  than  one  knew  what  were  the  hor- 
rors  of  captivity  among  the  savages — hard  work  and  ill  usage, 
entire  subjection  to  the  whims  of  a  hundred  masters.  Such  would 
be  the  result  of  surrender.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were  nearly 
ten  besiegers  to  every  one  of  their  own  number,  and  if  the  fort 
were  taken  by  storm,  death  by  the  most  fearful  tortures  would 
be  certain  to  follow.  This  was  the  alternative.  With  grave  faces 
and  anxious  hearts  they  weighed  the  question,  and  every  man 
returned  the  answer  that  they  "  would  defend  the  fort  as  long  as 
a  man  of  them  lived." 

Although  they  thus  decided,  they  did  not  yet  make  known 
their  resolution.    A  delay  of  two  days  was  graiitod  them  for  con* 


30  'colonel  DANIEL  BOONE. 

sideration^  but  was  used  for  preparation.  Horses  and  cattle  were 
collected  in  the  fort  from  tlie  surrounding  fields,  and  everything 
made  ready  for  a  determined  resistance.  On  the  evening  of  the 
ninth  of  August  (1778)  Boone  announced  to  Captain  Duquesne 
the  determination  to  defend  the  fort.  "  'Now/'  he  said,  "  we 
laugh  at  your  formidable  preparations  ;  but  thank  you  for  giv- 
ing us  notice  and  time  to  prepare  for  our  defense.  Your  efforts 
will  not  prevail;  for  our  gates  shall  forever  deny  you  admit- 
tance.^' Such  a  reply  was  wholly  unexpected,  and  considerably 
disappointed  the  enemy.  Their  leader,  however,  quickly  recov- 
ered himself,  and  offering  new  terms,  requested  that  nine  of  the 
principal  men  should  leave  the  fort,  to  treat  with  them.  Al- 
though they  could  talk  perfectly  well  in  their  positions  at  that 
time,  the  wary  pioneers  allowed  themselves  to  trust  an  enemy 
whose  wiliness  they  knew.  Boone  and  eight  of  his  companions 
left  the  fort  to  treat  with  the  foe,  and  so  earnest  were  the  asser- 
tions of  Duquesne,  that  they  had  orders  to  take  the  Kentuckians 
prisoners,  and  not  to  kill  them,  that  the  settlers  almost  believed 
them.  A  treaty  was  made,  and  signed  ;  what  were  the  contents 
cannot  now  be  ascertained,  nor  need  it  cause  us  any  regret ;  no 
wisdom  has  been  lost  to  us.  Determined  as  the  Indians  were  to 
drive  the  whites  from  their  favorite  hunting  grounds,  they  would 
not  propose,  in  earnest,  anything  to  which  the  settlers  would 
agree.  But  promises  are  easily  made  by  those  who  have  no  in- 
tention of  keeping  them,  and  who  cannot  be  compelled  to  do  so. 

^*  It  is  a  singular  custom  among  the  Indians,  of  whom  I  am  the 
leader,''  said  Captain  Duquesne,  when  the  articles  had  been  signed, 
"  for  each  white  man  with  whom  they  have  made  a  treaty  to  give 
each  hand  to  be  clasped  by  an  Indian,  in  token  of  good  faith.'' 

It  was  a  singular  custom,  Boone  thought,  and  one  of  which  he 
had  never  heard,  experienced  frontiersman  though  he  was.  But 
any  refusal  to  comply  with  the  demands  of  the  enemy  would  on- 
ly enrage  them.  The  white  men  extended  their  hands;  the  In- 
dians selected  for  the  occasion  advanced,  each  constraining  his 
features  to  express  a  smile  (but  which  was  by  no  m<^ans  enchant- 
ing) and  uttering  the  word  "Brother!"  in  his  softest  tones. 
Trained  as  he  was  to  conceal  his  feelings  under  an  appearance  of 
apathy,  it  was  beyond  his  skill  to  hide  the  snake-like  glitter  of  the 
eye,  which  betrayed  his  intentions  to  his  destined  victim.  They 
grappled  with  the  settlers,  but  were  thrown  off  by  the  strength 
of  despair,  as  the  whit^  jaen  wrenched  themselves  free.  Baois 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


31 


to  the  fort  they  fled,  amid  a  shower  of  bullets  and  ariows,  and 
tomahawks  wielded  by  angry  hands. 

The  conference  had  taken  place  at  a  distance  of  only  sixty 
yards  from  the  fort ;  had  it  been  greater  they  would  have  suffer- 
ed more  in  their  flight ;  as  it  was,  but  one  man  was  wounded.  The 
firing  continued  after  the  party  had  reached  the  fort,  but  was  re- 
turned by  the  besieged  with  such  fatal  effect  that  the  assailants 
were  soon  obliged  to  fall  back  from  their  exposed  position,  and 
taking  advantage  of  all  the  shelter  afforded,  to  continue  the  at- 
tack with  more  caution. 

Despairing  of  success  in  a  siege  where  all  the  loss  seemed  to  be 
on  his  own  side,  Duquesne  now  determined  upon  an  expedient 
which  he  hoped  would  be  more  successful.  The  fort  was  situated 
sixty  yards  from  the  Kentucky  River,  and  beginning  at  the  water 
mark,  he  directed  the  course  of  a  mine  toward  the  fort,  in  order 
to  blow  up  the  garrison.  The  fact  that  the  usually  clear  river 
was  muddy  below  a  certain  point  awakened  suspicion  in  the  fort. 
Boone  immediately  divined  the  true  state  of  affairs,  perceiv- 
ing that  they  must  have  thrown  the  earth  into  the  river  in  order 
to  prevent  its  being  seen  by  him.  The  point  of  division  be- 
tween the  clear  and  the  turbid  water  indicated  the  direction  of 
the  mine,  and  he  gave  orders  to  dig  a  deep  trench  inside  of  the 
fort,  in  such  a  way  as  to  cross  the  enemy's  mine.  The  clay  dug 
from  this  trench  was  thrown  over  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and  Du- 
quesne, reading  without  difficulty  a  message  so  plainly  expressed, 
desisted  from  the  undertaking. 

Having  thus  learned  from  experience  the  watchfulness  of  the 
men  with  whom  he  had  to  cope,  he  determined  to  renew  the  at- 
tack in  the  manner  of  a  regular  Indian  siege,  trusting  that  the 
numbers  of  the  garrison  would  soon  be  so  diminished  that  they 
would  be  forced  to  surrender.  In  this,  however,  he  was  disap- 
pointed. Man  after  man  of  his  own  force  fell;  his  provisions 
were  nearly  exhausted,  and  after  nine  days'  trial  of  power  and 
policy,  he  raised  the  siege,  and  led  off  his  savage  host.  Thirty- 
seven  of  the  Indians  had  been  killed,  and  many  wounded;  these 
being,  according  to  the  usage  of  all  the  tribes,  immediately  taken 
from  the  scene  of  action.  Boone  lost  two  men,  four  others  being 
wounded. 

Boonesborough  was  never  again  disturbed  by  any  large  body 
of  Indians.  This  was  in  consequence  of  the  establishment  of 
many  new  stations  between  it  and  the  Ohio  River    Not  only 


32 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONi:. 


could  the  Indians  not  reach  this  station  without  laf»ving  enemies 
in  the  rear  J  but  the  others  being  weaker  were  more  tempting  prey^ 

Early  in  the  autumn,  Boone  left  the  garrison  in  care  of  the  fort, 
judging  that  no  emergency  would  arise  in  which  his  leadership 
and  counsel  would  be  required;  and  set  off  to  North  Carolina 
for  his  family.  His  wife  supposed  that  he  had  been  kilied  at  the 
time  when  he  was  captured  by  the  Shawnees,  and  had  returned  to 
her  old  home.  Early  in  the  following  summer  they  again  reached 
Boonesborough,  and  Boone  industriously  cultivated  his  farm, 
volunteering  his  assistance  whenever  oeo^ion  required  to  the 
neighboring  immigrants. 

In  October,  1780,  it  once  more  became  necessary  to  obtain  a  sup- 
ply of  salt,  and  for  this  purpose  Boone  started  in  company  with 
his  brother  Squire,  to  Blue  Licks.  The  spot  seemed  to  be  fatal 
to  the  pioneer;  here,  less  than  two  years  before,  he  had  been 
taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians,  remaining  in  captivity  for  several 
months ;  here  again  he  was  destined  to  meet  with  loss,  for  on  this 
occasion,  after  a  hot  chase  by  the  Indians,  he  had  the  unhappiness 
of  seeing  his  brother,  the  sharer  of  his  boyish  sports  as  well  asf 
the  dangers  and  hardships  encountered  in  manhood,  shot  end 
scalped  by  the  savages.  Nor  could  the  poor  satisfaction  of  re. 
venge  be  his.  One  against  many,  he  must  fly  for  his  life.  Tracks 
ed  by  a  dog,  his  hiding  place  was  constantly  betrayed  by  its  bark, 
ing,  until,  after  a  long  flight,  he  turned  and  shot  the  dog.  He  con. 
eealed  himself  behind  a  tree,  but  held  his  hat  out  on  a  stick ;  whe^ 
his  pursuers  had  thus  wasted  their  shots,  he  aimed  at  them,  an^ 
succeeded  in  killing  both. 

Another  misfortune  had  overtaken  Boone  a  short  time  before. 
In  1779,  a  commission  had  been  appointed  by  the  Virginia  Legis- 
lature to  settle  Kentucky  land  claims,  there  being  considerable 
trouble  about  the  conflicting  interests  of  different  settlers.  The 
Henderson  or  "  Transylvania  Company,'^  as  it  was  called,  under 
the  auspices  of  which  Boonesborough  had  been  ♦settled,  claimed 
entire  independence  of  Virginia  and  every  other  state.  Kentucky, 
however,  had  been  constituted  a  county  of  the  Old  Dominion, 
and  various  tracts  of  lands  had  been  entered  by  later  settlers 
under  the  laws  of  that  commonwealth.  Other  states  had  sent 
pioneers  to  this  region,  and  matters  seemed  to  be  in  inextricable 
confusion.  Major  Boone,  in  company  with  many  others,  turned 
all  his  available  property  into  ready  money,  intending  to  invest 
m  land  warrants.    Having  raised^about  $20,000  in  paper  money, 


34 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONB. 


and  being  entrusted  with  large  sums  by  his  neighbors,  he  set  ent 
on  his  journey  to  Eichmond.  On  the  way  he  was  attacked  and 
robbed  of  the  whole  amount.  One  of  the  victims  of  this  misfor- 
tune writes  thus  to  his  brother,  who  had  also  suffered  by  the 
robbery : 

"  I  feel  for  the  poor  people  who,  perhaps,  are  to  lose  even  their 
pre-emptions;  but  I  must  say,  I  feel  more  for  Boone,  whose  char- 
acter,  I  am  told,  suffers  by  it.  Much  degenerated  must  the  people 
©f  this  age  be,  when  amongst  them  are  to  be  found  men  to  cen- 
/sure  and  blast  the  reputation  of  a  person  so  just  and  upright,  and 
in  whose  breast  is  a  seat  of  virtue  too  pure  to  admit  of  a  thought 
so  base  and  dishonorable.'' 

Yet,  in  his  autobiography,  there  is  no  word  of  this.  The  lands 
he  had  wrested  from  the  savages  were  taken  from  him  by  legal 
quibbles  ;  having  money  to  buy  the  title  to  them,  he  was  robbed 
of  it ;  undertaking  to  perform  a  service  for  his  neighbors,  their 
money  was  taken  along  with  his  ownj  and  at  last  he  was  ao» 
cused  of  appropriating  it  to  his  own  use  j  yet  he  complained  not, 
and  we  know  how  hard  it  is  to  bear  such  suspicions. 

Although  Boonesborough  was  not  again  attacked,  Kentucky 
was  by  no  means  in  a  state  of  tranquility.  Pioneers  and  Indians 
both  recognized  the  fact  that  Kentucky  was  not  large  enough  foi» 
both  races,  and  each  fought,  not  for  supremacy,but  for  existence 
The  year  1779  is  distinguished  in  the  annals  of  the  state  as  hav 
ing  seen  one  of  the  bloodiest  battles  ever  fought  between  th< 
two  contending  races  within  her  borders.  With  the  single  ex 
ception  of  the  subsequent  fight  at  Blue  Licks,  no  more  san. 
guinary  conflict  ever  stained  the  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground,  from 
the  time  that  the  white  man  first  trod  her  fertile  soil  until  the 
days  of  Albert  Sydney  Johnston.  Although  Boone  was  not  in 
this  battle,  so  important  was  its  bearing  upon  the  history  of  the 
state  that  it  must  be  briefly  described. 

'  Colonel  Eogers,  returning  from  New  Orleans  with  supplies  for 
^the  stations  on  the  Upper  Mississippi  and  Ohio  Eivers,  ascended 
these  streams  until  he  reached  Cincinnati.  Upper  Mississippi'' 
then  meant  that  part  of  the  river  between  "New  Orleans  and  the 
little  French  trading  post  called  St.  Louis.)  Coming  by  chane© 
upon  a  party  of  Indians  crossing  to  the  Kentucky  side  of  the 
)?iver,  he  determined  to  surprise  them  as  they  landed.  Owing  to 
low  water,  a  large  sand-bar  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  was  laid 
bare,  and  here  Eogers*  men  disembarked.   Before  they  couW 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE, 


reach  the  spot  where  he  proposed  to  attack  the  enemy,  they  were 
set  upon  by  a  force  so  far  superior  to  their  own  that  from  the  first 
they  fought  without  hope.  Eogers  was  instantly  killed,  as  were 
many  of  his  men.  The  miserable  remnant  fled  to  the  boats,  only 
to  find  that  of  the  two,  one  was  in  the  possession  of  the  Indians 
Losing  all  sense  of  everything  but  their  own  danger,  the  few  men 
in  the  other  pushed  off  from  shore  without  waiting  for  their  com- 
rades Turning  upon  their  pursuers,  and  charging  furiously,  a 
small  number  broke  through  their  ranks  and  made  the  best  of 
their  way  to  Harrodsburg.  Sixty  men  fell  by  the  hands  of  the 
Indians. 

Of  less  importance  was  an  expedition  headed  by  Col.  BowmaUj 
and  starting  from  Harrodsburg,  against  the  Shawnee  town  of 
Chillicothe.  Beginning  with  every  conceivable  promise  of  suc- 
cess, a  most  remarkable  lack  of  action  on  the  part  of  the  comman- 
der nullified  all  the  advantages.  This  was  in  July,  1779.  In  June, 
1780,  Eiddle's  and  Martin's  Stations,  situated  at  the  forks  of  Lick- 
ing Eiver,  were  attacked  by  a  large  party  of  Indians  and  Cana- 
dians, headed  by  Col.  Bird.  All  the  inhabitants  were  made  cap- 
tives, and  treated  most  cruelly;  those  unable  to  endure  were 
tomahawked. 

The  succeeding  winter  was  one  of  the  severest  ever  known  in 
Kentucky.  In  addition  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  (which 
was  not  unbearable,  since  it  kept  the  Indians  close  in  their  wig- 
wams), most  of  the  corn  had  been  destroyed  by  the  savages  dur- 
ing the  summer,  and  the  settlers  were  obliged  to  live  chiefly  on 
buffalo  flesh.  "  A  hardy  race,  accustomed  to  difliculties  and  ne- 
cessities, they  were  wonderfully  supported  through  all  their  suf- 
ferings.'' 

Throughout  the  summer  hostilities  were  continued.  Two  boys 
were  carried  off  from  one  station,  and  in  many  places  horses 
were  stolen  and  men  killed,  whenever  such  an  opportunity  pre- 
sented itself.  Nor  was  it  savage  ferocity  only  which  was  to  be 
encountered  3  they  were  led  by  some  renegade  white  men,  among 
whom  the  notorious  Simon  Girty  was  the  most  conspicuous.  A 
league  was  formed,  the  parties  to  it  being  the  Shawnees,  Chero- 
kees,  Wyandots,  Tawas,  Delawares  and  some  other  less  important 
tribes.  The  warriors  of  these  nations,  numbering  nearly  six  hun- 
dred, appeared  before  Bryant's  station  on  the  night  of  the  14th 
of  August,  1782.  Had  they  arrived  a  few  hours  later,  they  would 
have  found  the  fort  wkelly  unprepared  for  aa^  sort  of  4.ei&nsQ, 


36 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


for  the  entire  garrison  was  about  to  march  to  the  relief  of  Hoy's 
station.  Preparations  for  departure,  however,  did  not  differ  ma- 
terially from  preparations  for  defence,  and  the  Indians  were 
somewhat  dismayed  by  the  activity  of  the  garrison,  attributed 
by  them  to  a  different  cause. 

The  spring  which  supplied  the  fort  with  water  was  at  some  dis- 
tance from  it,  as  was  not  uncommonly  the  case ;  the  settlers  seem- 
ed to  feel  perfectly  secure  until  actually  attacked.  Taking  ad- 
vantage of  what  would  be  the  necessity  of  the  garrison,  the  main 
body  of  Indians  placed  themselves  in  ambush  near  the  spring, 
while  a  detachment  of  a  hundred  warriors  was  sent  to  the  other 
side  of  the  fort.  This  smaller  party  was  intended  as  a  decoy,  to 
draw  the  garrison  out,  when  the  larger  body,  rushing  upon  the 
opposite  gate  and  hewing  it  down  with  their  tomahawks,  would 
gain  possession  of  the  stronghold. 

At  dawn,  the  garrison  assembled  under  armsj  and  v^^tg  about 
to  open  the  gates  and  march  out,  when  they  were  startled  by  a. 
furious  volley  of  fire-arms,  echoed,  in  a  lower  key,  by  the  wild 
yells  of  the  savages.  From  the  picketing  could  be  seen  a  small 
party  of  Indians,  making  the  most  furious  gestures.  The  more 
experienced  and  wary  of  the  settlers  detected  the  trick,  and  re- 
strained the  ardent  courage  of  those  who  would  have  sallied  forth 
to  the  attack.  They  saw  that  there  was  to  be  a  determined  siege, 
and  they  were  without  water.  There  was  but  one  thing  to  be 
done  :  the  women  must  go  to  the  spring,  as  usual,  and  bring  a 
supply  into  the  fort. 

Why  must  we  go  was  the  question.  "Why  cannot  armed 
men  take  the  risk,  since  they,  at  least,  can  defend  themselves  ? 
We  are  not  bullet  proof,  and  the  Indians  take  scalps  from  women 
as  well  as  from  men."  .  . 

"  You  bring  the  water  every  day,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  by 
doing  so  now  you  will  avert  suspicion.  If  you  do  as  usual,  they 
will  not  think  their  ambuscade  is  discovered,  and  wishing  to  re- 
main concealed  for  a  longer  time,  they  will  not  fire  upon  you. 
If  we  go,  they  will  know  that  we  suspect  them,  and  will  either 
shoot  us  down  at  the  spring,  or  follow  us  into  the  fort." 

There  was  a  momentary  hesitation ;  then  some  of  the  bravei 
women  declared  their  readiness  to  go,  and  the  less  courageou3 
jollowed  their  example.  Betraying  no  sign  of  fear,  they  set  out, 
inarching  in  a  body  to  the  spring.^^Their  behavior  completely 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONL» 


blinded  the  Indians,  five  hundred  of  whom  lay  within  pistol-shot, 
and  some  even  nearer. 


38 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


As  they  returned,  they  began  to  give  way  to  fear,  and — let  me 
not  say  they  ran ;  perhaps  they  feared  the  garrison  were  thirsty. 

Thirteen  young  men  were  now  despatched  to  attack  the  decoy 
party,  with  orders  to  make  the  fight  appear  of  as  great  extent  as 
possible,  by  firing  as  fast  as  they  could  load  and  reload,  and 
making  a  great  deal  of  noise.  Then  the  rest  of  the  garrison  silently 
placed  themselves  at  the  other  side  of  the  fort,  ready  to  receive 
the  expected  attack. 

The  Indians  concealed  west  of  the  fort  heard  the  firing,  and 
thought  that  their  stratagem  had  proved  successful.  The  pre- 
concerted signal  was  given,  and  the  five  hundred  rushed  upon 
the  fort  that  they  thought  defenseless.  The  first  dreadful  volley 
awakened  them  rudely  from  their  dream  of  success ;  followed  as 
it  was  by  a  second  and  a  third  in  close  succession,  it  was  not  long 
before  they  were  sufficiently  recalled  to  their  senses  to  fly  to  the 
woods.  Hardly  had  they  disappeared  when  the  party  sent  out  to 
attack  the  decoy  came  in,  highly  delighted  at  the  repulse  of  the 
enemy. 

Having  recovered  from  the  surprise  of  their  warm  reception, 
the  Indians  issued  from  the  woods  arid  attacked  the  station  in 
the  regular  manner,  the  fight  lasting  four  or  five  hours.  About 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  reinforcements  were  received  from 
Lexington,  couriers  having  been  sent  thither  as  soon  as  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Indians  had  been  discovered.  Those  who  were 
mounted  succeeded  in  getting  into  the  fort  without  being  hurt, 
but  those  on  foot  were  cut  off*  by  the  Indians,  a  running  fight  be- 
ing kept  up  for  over  an  hour.  Girty  determined,  however,  to 
try  to  pursuade,  since  he  could  not  force  them  to  surrender;  as- 
suring them  that  his  present  force  of  six  hundred  warriors  was 
not  all  that  he  could  bring  to  bear  upon  them ;  that  reinforce- 
merts  would  soon  arrive  with  several  pieces  of  artillery^  when 
they  could  not  hope  to  resist;  that  if  they  would  surrender,  not 
a  hair  of  their  heads  should  be  injured.  In  spite  of  the  threats  ot 
the  artillery,  however  (which  really  was  alarming,  as  the  Indianr, 
had  destroyed  two  stations  with  cannon),  the  garrison  held  out, 
and  in  the  morning  the  Indians  had  disappeared. 

All  the  morning  reinforcements  arrived,  until  by  midday  one 
hundred  and  seventy-six  men  were  assembled  at  Bryant's  station. 
About  fifty  or  sixty  of  these  men  were  commissioned  officers,  who 
resigned  the  privileges  of  their  position  to  fight  in  the  ranks  for 
the  common  weal.    Colonels  Trigg  and  Todd,  and  Majors  Boone 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE.  ^'  39 

and  Harland,  were  the  leaders.  Subordinate  to  these  were  Maj- 
ors McBride,  McGrary,  Levi  Todd,  and  Captains  Bulger  and  Gor- 
don. 

General  Logan  was  expected  to  join  them,  in  twenty -four  hours 


ARRIVAL  OF  REINFORCEMEKTS. 

at  the  farthest,  with  a  large  force.  Although  the  number  of  men 
collected  in  the  fort  was  unusually  large,  it  was  but  a  fraction  of 
the  opposing  army.  The  Indians  themselves  were  perfectly 
aware  of  this,  and  took  no  trouble  to  conceal  their  route  j  adver- 
tising it,  rather,  by  the  breadth  of  their  trail  and  by  marking 


40 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


the  trees.  This  self-confidence  of  the  savages  somewhat  alarmed 
Boone,  whose  courage  never  degenerated  into  a  fool-hardy  con- 
tempt for  danger;  but  a  retreat  would  now  be  construed  by  the 
Indians  as  evidence  of  weakness. 

Encamping  that  night  in  the  woods,  on  the  succeeding  day  they 
reached  the  Lower  Blue  Licks,  and  for  the  first  time  came  within 
view  of  the  Indians.  To  Boone,  the  very  sight  of  the  place  where 
he  had  suffered  so  much  before,  must  have  seemed  a  foreboding 
of  evil. 

The  white  men  halted,  a  hurried  consultation  being  held  by  a 
dozen  or  twenty  officers.  All  eyes  were  turned  on  Boone,  the 
veteran  woodsman  whose  soldierly  qualities  they  respected  no 
less  than  they  did  his  courage  and  integrity  of  heart.  Cautious 
were  his  words;  the  leisurely  retreat  of  the  Indians  showed 
them  to  have  a  large  force  ready  for  battle.  About  a  mile  from 
^here  they  now  were,  there  were  two  ravines,  one  on  each  side 
of  the  ridge,  and  here  he  feared  they  might  form  aPii  ambuscade. 
The  place  was  excellently  fitted  for  that  purpose,  as  by  making 
use  of  both  ravines  the  Indians  could  attack  them  at  once  in  front 
and  flank  before  they  could  anticipate  such  a  danger.  There 
Were  two  courses  to  be  pursued:  either  to  await  the  arrival  of 
Logan,  who  would  soon  join  them;  or  to  divide  their  force,  one 
half  to  march  up  the  river  and  cross  at  the  rapids,  falling  upon 
the  rear  of  the  enemy,  while  the  remaining  half  crossed  at  that 
point,  attacking  the  enemy  in  front. 

Opinions  w@re  divided  as  to  the  better  course.  If  they  re- 
mained where  they  were,  they  might  be  surprised  under  cover 
of  darkness,  and  massacred  ;  if  the  force  was  divided,  they  might 
be  beaten  in  detail.  The  discussion  was  suddenly  cut  short  by 
the  passionately  rash  courage  of  McG-ary,  who,  with  a  war  cry 
like  an  Indian's,  spurred  his  horse  into  the  stream,  shouting 

Let  all  who  are  not  cowards  follow  me  V 

His  ardor  communicated  itself  to  the  others ;  no  order  was  pos- 
sible. In  the  stream  together  were  officers  and  men,  mounted 
and  unmounted.  He  was  leader  who  was  foremost  in  the  wild, 
irregular  mass,  and  toward  this  post  of  honor  every  man  strug- 
gled. As  they  ascended  the  ridge  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
stream,  McG-ary,  Boone,  Harland  and  McBride  were  in  the  van. 
On  they  went  with  the  same  wild  courage.  'No  scouts  were  sent 
in  advance,  not  even  ordinary  precautions  were  taken  ;  the  only 
aim  seemed  to  be  to  reach  the  field  of  blood  as  quickly  as  possible. 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


41 


Boone's  fears  were  realized.  Hardly  had  they  reached  the  spot 
described,  when  the  Indians,  concealed  in  one  of  the  bushy  ra- 
vines, fired  upon  the  van.  The  centre  and  rear  hurried  to  the 
assistance  of  their  companions,  but  were  stopped  by  a  t*'"vriblo 
fire  from  the  ravine  on  the  other  side.  Unprotected,  on  the  bare 
and  open  ridge,  the  whites  still  stood  their  ground  before  the 
devastating  volleys  from  the  enemy  sheltered  by  the  nature  of 
of  its  position.  Gradually  the  combatants  closed  with  eack 
other,  the  Indians  emerging  from  the  ravine.  This  enabled  th© 
whites  to  return  their  fire  with  greater  efi'ect  than  before.  Many 
of  the  whites  had  already  been  killed,  among  them  Todd,  Trigg, 
McBride,  Harland  and  young  Boone,  while  the  Indians  were 
gradually  extending  their  line,  so  as  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the 
Kentuckians.  Perceiving  this,  the  rear  endeavored  to  break 
through,  and  this  movement  being  communicated  to  the  whole 
body,  a  general  retreat  ended  in  the  wildest  disorder.  The  clear 
mountain  stream  ran  blood,  and  the  grass  on  its  banks,  trampled 
and  uprooted  in  the  deadly  struggle,  was  stained  with  the  same 
horrid  dye.  Those  who  were  mounted  escaped,  but  those  who 
must  trust  to  their  own  swiftness  perished. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  retreat,  when  the  dreadful  carn- 
age was  at  its  height,  Boone,  who  had  seen  his  son  and  so  many 
of  his  friends  slain,  found  himself  with  a  few  companions,  almost 
totally  surrounded.  But  the  attention  of  the  Indians  was  chiefly 
drawn  to  the  ford  where  most  of  the  fugitives  were  endeavoring 
to  .cross.  His  acquaintance  with  the  locality  here  served  him  in 
good  stead.  Dashing  into  the  ravine  in  which  the  Indians  had 
lain,  they  crossed  the  river  below  the  ford,  after  having  sustained 
more  than  one  heavy  fire,  and  baffling  several  small  parties  that 
pursued  them. 

Having  crossed,  they  entered  the  woods  at  a  point  where  there 
was  no  pursuit,  and  made  their  way  back  to  Bryant's  Stationc 

Horse  and  foot  thronged  the  river,  struggling  at  once  with  the 
current  and  with  the  Indians,  who  were  mingled  with  them  in  a 
confused  mass.  Nor  was  it  altogether  a  strife  for  self-preserva- 
tion; the  blood-stained  record  of  the  day  is  bright  with  stories 
of  generosity. 

In  the  wild  panic,  some  dozen  or  twenty  horsemen,  having 
gained  the  farther  side  of  the  river,  spurred  their  horses  onwardj. 
though  many  were  still  struggling  in  the  stream.  One  of  their 
number,  Netherland,  who  had  been  strongly  suspected  of  coward- 


42 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


ice,  o"bserving  this,  reined  in  his  horse,  and  called  upon  them  to 
fire  on  the  enemy,  thus  affording  relief  to  those  less  fortunate  than 
themselves.  This  was  only  temporary,  however,  for  the  num- 
ber of  the  Indians  was  so  great  that  the  places  of  those  killed 
were  quickly  supplied. 

From  the  battle-ground  to  the  ford  was  one  dreadful  scene  of 
carnage,  and  for  nearly  twenty  miles  the  pursuit  was  kept  up. 
Beyond  the  ford,  there  was  but  slight  loss  to  xhe  whites.  Among 
the  prisoners  was  a  young  man  named  Eeynolds,*whose  captivity 
was  the  direct  result  of  his  own  generosity.  Between  the  battle 
ground  and  the  river,  in  the  course  of  the  retreat,  he  came  up 
with  an  older  man  who  was  much  exhausted  with  the  rapidity  of 
the  flight,  being  infirm  by  reason  of  wounds  received  in  former 
battles.  Dismounting,  Eeynolds  helped  this  ofiicer  upon  his 
horse,  and  continued  his  way  on  foot.  Swimming  the  river,  his 
buckskin  breeches  became  heavy  with  the  water,  and  he  was  soon 
overtaken  by  a  party  of  Indians,  and  compelled  to  accompany 
his  captors.  A  prisoner's  fate  is  never  decided  by  the  Indians 
Until  the  close  of  the  campaign,  when  they  return  to  their  village. 
Young  Eeynolds,  then,  was  kindly  treated  by  his  captors,  of 
whom  there  was  a  considerable  party.  A  small  group  of  Ken- 
tuckians  seeming  to  them  to  be  easy  prey,  he  was  left  in  charge 
of  three  of  their  number.  These,  eager  to  join  their  companions, 
delegated  the  care  of  the  prisoner  to  a  single  Indian,  and  guard 
and  captive  jogged  along  quietly  enough,  the  latter  being  unarm- 
ed. The  Indian,  at  last,  stooped  to  tie  his  moccasin,  when  Eey- 
nolds knocked  him  down  with  his  fist  and  disappeared  in  the 
thicket.  A  gift  of  two  hundred  acres  of  first  class  land  was  the 
acknowledgment  which  he  afterward  received  from  the  man 
whose  life  he  had  saved. 

Before  reaching  Bryant's  station,  the  fugitives  met  Logan,  at 
the  head  of  his  detachment.  When  all  who  had  escaped  arrived  at 
that  place,  Logan  found  himself  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  and 
fifty  men.  With  Boone  as  second  in  command,  he  set  out  toward 
the  battle  field,  hoping  that  the  enemy,  encouraged  by  success, 
would  encamp  there.  But  while  defeat  only  enraged  the  red  men 
further,  victory  sent  them  home  to  their  own  country,  exulting 
in  their  scalps  and  prisoners.  The  battle  field  was  covered 
with  the  bodies  of  the  white  men,  frightfully  mangled.  After 
burying  these,  Logan  and  Boone  returned  to  Bryant's  station 
and  disbanded  the  troops. 


-COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


43 


i^ucn  ^as  the  blooJiest  battle  ever  fought  betwucxi  white  and 
red,  for  the  soil  of  Kentucky.  About  seventy  of  the  Kentuckians, 
or  nearly  one-half  of  the  whole  number  engaged,  were  killed, 
and  the  19th  of  August,  1782,  was  long  celebrated  in  the  local 
traditions. 

A  few  prowling  bands  of  Indians  infested  the  less  thickly  set- 
tled part  of  the  couatry,  but  for  some  time  there  were  no  im- 
portant sieges  or  fights.  Colonel  Boone  was  enabled  by  the  com- 
pensation which  the  State  of  Virginia  gave  him  for  his  military 


THE  TOBACGO  STRATAGEM. 

services  to  purchase  several  tracts  of  land,  which  he-  cultivated 
with  his  usual  industr^^,  varying  his  agricultural  pursuits  with 
hunting  expeditions.  On  one  of  these  tracts  he  erected  a  com- 
fortable log  house,  near  which  he  planted  a  small  patch  of  tobac- 
co to  supply  his  neighbors  (  for  he  never  used  the  filthy  weed'' 
himself). 

He  had  built  a  "  tobacco  house,"  for  curing  it,  of  rails  ten  or 
twelve  feet  in  height,  and  roofed  with  cane  and  grass.  The  stalks 
were  split  and  strung  on  sticks  about  four  feet  long,  the  ends  of 
these  being  laid  on  poles  placed  in  tiers  across  the  building. 


44 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE 


The  lower  tier  being  dry,  JBoone  was  buj^ily  removing  it  to  the 
upper  part  of  the  building,  supporting  himself  o!  the  lower 
poles,  when,  looking  down,  he  saw  that  four  Indians,  armed  with 
guns,  had  entered  the  low  door.    One  of  them  said  to  him: 

'^Now,  Boone,  we  got  you.  You  no  get  away  more.  We  carry 
of£  to  Chillicothe  this  time.    You  no  cheat  us  any  more/' 

Looking  down  from  his  perch,  Boone  recognized  the  intruders 
as  some  of  the  ShawnQcs  who  had  captured  him  in  1778,  and  an- 
swered, pleasantly : 

*^  Ah,  old  friends,  glad  to  see  you.  "Wait  a  little,  till  I  have 
finished  putting  up  this  tobacco,  will  you  ?  You  can  stand  there 
and  watch  me." 

The  loaded  guns,  which  had  been  pointed  at  his  breast,  were 
lowered,  and  the  Indians  stood  watching  his  every  movement. 
At  last,  so  interested  did  they  become  in  answering  his  questions 
about  old  acquaintances,  and  in  his  promises  to  give  them  his  to- 
bacco, that  they  became  less  attentive,  and  did  not  see  that  he 
had  gathered  the  dry  tobacco  into  such  a  position  that  a  touch 
Would  send  it  into  their  upturned  faces.  At  the  same  instant  that 
he  touched  this,  he  jumped  upon  them  with  as  much  of  the  dried 
tobacco  as  he  could  gather  in  his  arms,  filling  their  eyes  and  nos- 
trils with  its  dust.  Blinded  and  strangling,  they  could  not  follow 
him  as  he  rushed  towards  the  cabin,  where  he  could  defend  him- 
self. Looking  around^  when  he  was  about  fifteen  or  twenty  yards 
from  the  tobacco  house,  he  saw  them  groping  in  all  directions  ; 
and  heard  them  cursing  him  as  a  rogue,  and  themselves  as  fools. 

Quietly  tilling  his  beautiful  farm  near  Boonesborough,  several 
years  were  passed  in  peace  and  tranquility.  Here  he  dictated  to 
one  John  Filson  the  aulobiography  before  mentioned,  and  after 
its  publication  in  1784,  it  was  one  of  his  greatest  pleasures  to  lis- 
ten to  it  when  any  one  would  read  it  to  him.  In  his  opinion,  it 
was  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  literature  in  existence.  One 
charm,  at  least,  that  it  had  for  him,  it  has  for  all ;  it  is  every 
word  true — not  a  lie  in  it." 

But  the  storms  were  not  yet  at  an  end ;  the  earliest  settler  in 
the  community,  he  had  been  obliged  to  buy  his  farm ;  expending 
for  this  purpose  money  earned  as  a  defender  of  Kentucky,  his 
aversion  to  legal  technicalities  and  ignorance  of  legal  forms  pre- 
vented his  taking  care  to  secure  a  perfect  title.  Such  defects  were 
eagerly  hunted  up,  about  this  period,  by  speculators,  and  many 
pexxer  informed  and  more  careful  men  lost  their  lands  by  litigation. 


46 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


As  a  result  of  the  arts  and  rogueries  of  these  speculators,  not  a  foot 
of  land  remained  to  Boone.  Sadly,  but  not  bitterly,  he  resolved 
to  leave  Kentucky,  and  about  1790  he  and  his  faithful  and  be- 
loved wife  removed  to  a  place  near  Point  Pleasant,  on  the  Kana- 
wha Eiver  in  Yirginia.  Here  he  lived  about  five  years,  cultivate 
ing  a  farm,  raising  stock,  and  whenever  possible,  hunting. 

But  to  the  woodsman,  life  in  this  "  highly  civilized  "  region,  as 
it  seemed  to  him,  was  unendurable.  Here  there  were  but  traces 
of  game,  which  must  be  carefully  followed ;  sometimes  (and  these 
occasions  were  fast  growing  more  and  mqre  frequent)  even  the 
most  skillful  hunter  failed  to  meet  with  success.  "With  eager  in- 
terest he  listened  to  the  adventurers  returned  from  the  far  prai- 
ries west  of  the  Mississippi,  when  they  told  how,  over  the  flat, 
grass-clad  plains  and  the  low  hills,  roamed  vast  herds  of  buffalo  ; 
how  the  wild  duck  haunted  the  borders  of  the  swift  Father  of 
Waters  and  the  turbid  flood  of  its  chief  tributary ;  how  often  the 
cry  of  the  wild  turkey  was  heard  through  the  forests  that  bor^ 
dered  the  life-giving  streams.  He  who  had  found  happiness  in  the 
Kentucky  wilderness  longed  foi  a  land  where  he  might  make  his 
home  secure  from  the  grasp  of  those  who  wished  to  defraud; 
whence  he  could  go  to  the  hunting  ground,  and  not  find  it  trans- 
formed to  farms. 

In  this  region  so  favored  by  nature,  the  wandering  hunters  told 
him,  the  people  were  simple  and  straightforward,  honest  and  hon- 
orable, needing  not  the  laws  made  for  those  disposed  to  evil,  nor 
seeking  to  avoid,  through  the  subtilty  of  lawyers,  the  conse- 
quences of  their  own  actions.  To  a  man  of  Boone^s  tastes  and 
experience,  a  land  where  lawsuits  and  lawyers  were  unknown 
must  have  seemed  the  very  ideal  of  a  dwelling-place. 

Hither,  then,  in  1795  or  1797,  he  took  up  his  journey.  The 
country  west  of  the  Mississippi  then  belonged  to  the  Crown  of 
Spain,  and  from  the  representative  of  that  royal  owner,  the  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor  resident  at  St.  Louis,  he  received  assurance 
that  ample  portions  of  land  should  be  given  to  him  and  his  fam- 
ily." The  Pemme  Osage  settlement,  the  home  of  his  son  Daniel 
M.  Boone,  was  his  residence  until  1804,  and  it  was  of  this  district 
that  in  1800  he  was  appointed  Commandant.  This  office  com- 
bined civil  and  military  duties,  and  was  held  by  him  until  the 
transfer  of  the  territory  of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States  G-overn- 
ment  in  1803.  Eemoving  to  the  residence  of  his  youngest  son, 
Maj.  Nathan  Boone,  he  remained  there  until  1810,  when  he  went  to 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


47 


live  with  his  son-in-law,  Flanders  Callaway,  in  Callaway  county. 

In  consideration  of  his  official  services  as  Syndic,  ten  thousand 
arpents  of  excellent  land  (about  eight  thousand  five  hundred 
acres)  were  given  to  Colonel  Boone  by  the  Government.  In  ac- 
cordance with  the  special  law,  he  should  have  obtained  a  con- 
firmation of  the  grant  from  the  royal  Governor  at  New  Orleans, 
and  have  taken  up  his  residence  on  the  land.  The  Lieutenant- 
Governor  at  St.  Louis  undertook  to  dispense  with  the  latter  con- 
dition, and  Boone  reckoned  all  would  be  right ^'  with oirt  any 
further  attention  to  formalities  than  was  implied  in  the  original 
grant.  He  probably  trusted  that  justice  would  be  done  by  the 
United  States  Government;  but  the  Commissioners  appointed  to 
decide  on  claims  rejected  Boone's  for  want  of  legal  formalities. 

This,  however,  did  not  occur  for  some  time  after  his  removal  to 
the  state,  so  that  the  first  few  years  spent  within  its  bounds  were 
marked  by  no  ill  luck.  The  office  which  he  held  under  the  Spanish 
Government  was  similar  to  the  present  one  of  justice  of  the  peace, 
with  the  addition  of  military  duties,  but  its  exercise  did  not  re- 
quire all  his  time.  Plenty  of  leisure  remained  for  hunting,  and 
obtaining,  after  two  or  three  seasons,  valuable  furs  in  sufficient 
quantity  to  enable  him  to  pay  some  debts  outstanding  in  Ken- 
tucky,  he  went  thither,  and  asking  each  creditor  the  amount  due 
him,  paid  it  without  any  other  guarantee  than  their  assertion. 
Eeturning  to  Missouri,  though  he  had  but  half  a  dollar  remain- 
ing, he  said  to  his  family : 

^^ISTow  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  die;  I  am  relieved  from  a 
burden  that  has  long  oppressed  me ;  I  have  paid  all  my  debts, 
and  no  one  will  say,  when  I  am  gone,  ^  Boone  was  a  dishonest 
man;'  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  die.'' 

In  1812,  Colonel  Boone  sent  a  petition  to  Congress,  praying 
that  his  original  claim  be  confirmed.  At  his  request,  the  Ken- 
tucky Legislature,  by  a  series  of  resolutions,  directed  the  Sena- 
tors of  that  state  to  exert  themselves  to  further  this  petition. 
His  appeal  was  neglected  for  some  time;  Tbut  Congress,  in  Feb-^ 
ruary,  1814,  granted  him  one  thousand  arpents — a  tract  of  land 
to  which  any  settler  would  be  entitled. 

During  the  period  of  anxiety  about  his  land,  a  worse  troubL'' 
came,  in  the  death  of  the  wife  who  had  shared  his  dsmg&r?  ani 
toils  for  so  many  years.    For  seven  years  he  was  to  live  alone. 

Before  this  he  had  given  up  his  favorite  pursuit  of  hunting, 
even  in  his  last  expeditions  being  attended  by  some  friend  or  ser- 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


vant.  His  time  was  divided  among  his  children,  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Callaway,  his  eldest  daughter,  being  headquarters,  and  the 
home  of  Major  I^athan  Boone  seeing  him  oftenest.  He  employed 
his  time  in  making  powder  horns  for  his  grandchildren,  repairing 
rifles,  and  such  other  work  as  had  been  familiar  to  him  in  past 
years  and  was  not  now  beyond  his  failing  strength.  One  occu- 
pation which  seems  to  us  rather  singular,  was  the  daily  rubbing 
and  polishing  of  a  coffin  which  he  had  had  made  for  himself,  and 
which,  at  his  death,  was  found  in  a  state  of  excellent  finish.  This 
was  the  second  coffin  made  for  him ;  the  first  did  not  fit  to  his 
satisfaction,  so  he  gave  it  to  his  son-in-law,  Flanders  Callaway. 

An  attack  of  fever  prostrated  him  in  September,  1820,  and  on 
the  twenty-sixth  of  that  month,  at  the  residence  of  his  youngest 
son,  he  died,  in  the  eighty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried 
beside  his  wife.  The  Legislature  of  Missouri  passed  resolutions 
of  resj^ect,  adopted  a  badge  of  mourning  for  thirty  days,  and  ad- 
journed for  one  day.  In  1845,  the  people  of  Frankfort,  Ky.,  ob- 
tained the  consent  of  the  family  to  inter  the  bones  of  the  great 
pioneer  and  his  wife  in  the  rural  cemetery  they  had  prepared ; 
and  the  burial  took  place  on  the  20th  of  August  of  that  year. 


THE  GRAVE  OF  BOOIfE. 


CHAPTER  11. 


SIMON"  KEN^TON. 


.N  the  year  1771,  there  lived  in  Fauquier  County,  Virginia,  a 


JL  rustic  belle,  who  found  it  impossible  to  decide  between  two 
of  her  many  lovers.  One  of  these  two  was  a  young  farmer,  nam- 
ed '\^illiam  Leitchman ;  the  other  was  Simon  Kenton,  a  boy  of 
but  sixteen,  but  tall  and  well-formed.  In  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  the  country,  the  matter  was  taken  up  by  the  friends  of 
Leitchman  and  they  administered  a  severe  beating  to  his  young 
rival.  Smarting  under  this  rough  treatment,  and  feeling  no  less 
the  coquette's  admiration  of  the  prowess  of  his  assailants,  Ken- 
ton determined  upon  revenge.  He  accordingly  challenged  Leitch- 
man to  single  combat.  It  was  a  regular  stand-up  fight,  in  which 
fists  were  the  only  weapons.  Such  was  its  character  at  first,  but 
the  more  matured  strength  of  Leitchman  transformed  it  in  both 
particulars,  as  Kenton  was  soon  brought  to  the  ground,  and  kicks 
as  well  as  cuffs  bestowed  upon  him.  At  last,  however,  he  gained 
the  mastery,  winding  his  rivaFs  long  hair  about  a  bush  that  was 
near,  and  returning  with  good  interest,  not  only  the  blows,  but 
^Hhe  pangs  of  misprized  love"*  as  well.  His  passion  led  him 
farther  than  he  wished,  for  in  a  little  time  his  antagonist  lay  ap- 
parently lifeless  upon  the  ground. 

Frightened  at  the  unexpected  termination,  he  resolved  upon 
immediate  flight.  Through  the  wilderness,  then,  he  went  at  full 
speed,  the  dark  shadow  of  the  gallows  clouding  his  way,  and 
urging  him  onward.  For  better  concealment,  he  resolved  to  drop 
the  name  of  Kenton,  which  might  betray  him,  if  a  reward  were 
offered  for  his  apprehension,  and  assume  that  of  Butler.  It  is  as 
Simon  Butler,  then,  that  for  many  years  he  is  known  in  tfee  his- 
tory of  Kentucky. 

Not  yet,  however,  was  he  destined  to  reach  the  fertile  land 
with  whose  welfare  his  own  was  to  be  so  closely  connected  in  the 
future.    Falling  in  with  various  parties  &£  adventurers  and  ex* 


60 


SIMON  KENTON 


plorers,  he  at  last  became  acquainted  with  two  companions,  Ya- 
ger and  Strader,  the  former  having  been  captured  by  the  Indians 
when  a  child^  and  kept  by  them  for  many  years.  He  described 
to  Kenton  an  earthly  paradise,  which  was  familiar  to  him  in  his 
childhood  by  the  name  of  Kan-tnck-ee,  saying  that  it  w^as  to  be 
reached  by  descending  the  Ohio.  So  confident  was  he  in  his  own 
powers  as  a  guide  that  Strader  and  Kenton  procured  a  canoe, 
and  the  three  young  men  set  out.  After  rowing  for  several  days 
they  became  rather  incredulous,  telling  Yager  that  he  must  have 
confused  different  localities,  and  in  spite  of  his  protestations  to 
the  contrary,  they  insisted  upon  returning  to  Virginia.  They 
then  went  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  G*reat  Kanawha,  and  spent 
nearly  two  years  in  that  locality,  engaged  in  the  congenial  and 
profitable  labors  of  hunting  and  trapping. 

Attacked  by  a  party  of  Indians  in  March,  1773,  they  were  driven 
from  their  tent.  As  they  fled,  Strader  fell  by  a  shot  from  the  as- 
sailants, but  Kenton  and  Yager  were  more  successful  in  their  re° 
treat.  But  so  hurried  had  been  their  flight,  that  they  had  neither 
guns,  blankets  nor  provisions — neither  food  nor  shelter,  nor  the 
means  of  procuring  it.  For  five  days  they  journeyed  through 
the  trackless  forests,  with  no  guide  towards  the  Ohio,  their  pro- 
posed destination,  except  the  moss  on  the  northward  side  of  the 
trees,  and  no  food  but  the  roots  which  they  found  on  the  way. 
Completely  exhausted  by  their  rapid  flight  and  by  hunger,  they 
reached  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  at  sunset  on  the  fifth  day,  and  ob- 
tained a  supply  of  provisions  from  a  party  of  traders  that  they 
found  there.  Meeting  soon  after  with  another  party  of  explor- 
ers, Kenton  obtained  a  gun  and  some  ammunition,  and,  plunging 
alone  into  the  forest,  lived  a  hunter's  life  there  until  late  in  the 
summer. 

Joining  somewhat  later  another  party  of  adventurers,  he  left 
them  in  1774,  when  Dunmore's  war  broke  out.  During  the  whole 
of  this  contest  between  the  two  races,  the  names  of  Simon  Butler 
and  Simon  G-irty  were  well  known  as  among  the  most  efiicient 
spies  employed  by  Lord  Dunmore.  In  their  later  years,  the  one 
was  honored  as  a  brave  man  and  a  faithful  champion  of  the  white 
man,  the  other  reviled  as  a  traitor  and  a  renegade. 

Kenton  had  not  yet  given  up  the  idea  of  finding  the  place  de- 
scribed by  Yager,  and  when  the  troops  were  disbanded  at  the 
close  of  the  war,  he,  together  with  two  others,  set  out  in  the  di- 
rection indicated.     After  considerable  wandering,  they  built  a 


91 


esMm  wiiere  Washington,  Ky.,  now  stands,  and  planted  a  small 
clearing  with  corn.  In  the  forest,  one  day,  he  met  with  two  men, 
Fitzpatrick  and  Hendricks,  whom  Kenton  invited  to  remain  at 
his  cabin.  In  descending  the  Ohio,  their  canoe  had  been  over= 
58J?M©d,  and  such  had  been  their  experience  in  their  endeavors  te 
Sad  the  settlements^  tliat  Fitzpatrick  was  thoroughly  disgusted, 
and  refused  to  stay.  Hendricks  accepted  the  invitation,  and  re- 
mained at  the  cabin  while  the  others  escorted  his  late  companion 
to  The  Point,''  the  site  of  the  modern  Maysville.  Having  seen 
him  safely  across  the  river,  and  provided  him  with  a  gun  and 
some  ammunition,  they  returned  to  the  camp,  where  they  had  left 
Hendricks  without  a  gun,  but  with  a  bountiful  supply  of  food. 
They  arrived  at  the  cabin  only  to  find  it  deserted,  pierced  hertj 
and  there  by  bullets,  and  the  various  articles  in  much  confusion. 
From  a  low,  bushy  ravine  not  far  from  the  clearing  rose  the  thick 
smoke  that  comes  from  a  newly  kindled  fire ;  strong  must  the  In- 
dians be,  when  they  so  boldly  encamped  near  the  dwelling  of 
their  victim's  companions,  and  Kenton  and  his  two  friends,  judg- 
ing that  it  would  be  too  unequal  a  contest,  beat  a  hasty  retreat 
into  the  woods.  The  evening  of  the  next  day  they  returned 
cautiously  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  camp,  to  find  the  fire 
smouldering,  the  Indians  gone,  and  the  ground  strewn  with  the 
bones  of  their  luckless  companion.  At  the  time  of  their  return, 
Hendricks  had  probably  been  alive;  perhaps  the  Indians  were 
not  so  numerous  as  they  had  feared,  and  a  sudden,  sharp  attack 
might  have  saved  him  from  that  most  horrible  of  deaths. 

Slowly  they  retraced  their  steps  to  the  cabin  at  "Washington, 
pondering  on  the  uncertainty  of  their  lives,  and  filled  with  use- 
less regrets  for  their  comrade.  In  the  following  September,  a 
wandering  hunter  told  them  of  the  settlements  in  the  interior  of 
the  state,  and  especially  of  the  fort  at  Boonesborough.  That  this 
was  pleasant  news  to  them,  is  shown  by  their  leaving  the  camp 
at  Washington,  and  setting  out,  through  the  forest,  to  visit  the  dif- 
ferent stations  established  in  various  parts  of  the  state. 

What  became  of  his  two  companions  is  not  recorded,  liut  Ken- 
ton went  to  Boonesborough,  where  he  participated  in  two  sieges, 
and  served  as  a  spy  with  most  excellent  success.  It  was  during  the 
year  1777,  while  Kenton  was  in  Boonesborough,  that  several  men 
in  the  fields  near  by  were  attacked  by  Indians,  and  ran  to  the 
fort.  One  of  the  savages  overtook  and  tomahawked  a  white  man, 
but  while  stooping  to  scalp  bim^as  covered  by  Kenton's  unei^ 


52 


SIMON  HKNTON. 


ring  rifle.  A  sharp  crack,  and  the  Indian  fell  prostrate  over  his 
victim.  Boone,  with  thirteen  men,  of  whom  Kenton  was  one, 
eallied  to  the  relief  of  the  others  ;  half  of  the  uamber,  including 


SIMON  KENTON, 


53 


the  leader,  were  wG  inded  at  the  first  fire,  and  an  Indian  had  al- 
ready stooped,  tomahawk  in  hand,  over  the  white  chief  whose 
cool  courage  they  so  much  feared,  when  Kenton,  with  the  spring 
^f  the  panther,  slew  the  Indian,  and  catching  up  into  his  arms 
the  body  of  the  leader,  bore  it  safely  into  the  fort.  When  the 
gates  were  securely  closed,  Boone  sent  for  Kenton,  his  sense  of 
gratitude  having  overcome  his  usual  taciturnity.  Yet  so  unused 
was  he  to  courtly  phrase  that  all  he  could  say  was,  Well,  Simon, 
you  have  behaved  yourself  like  a  man  to-day.  Indeed,  you  are 
a  fine  fellow.'' 

Perhaps  the  young  giant  of  twenty-two,  standing  there  before 
the  already  famous  pioneer,  appreciated  the  praise  more  than  any 
one  else  could ;  for  he  knew  how  much  meaning  there  was  in 
these  few  words  from  that  man  of  action. 

In  the  expedition  that  Bcone  led  against  the  Indian  towns  in 
the  summer  of  1778,  Kenton  did  good  service  as  a  spy,  although 
not  without  danger  to  himself.  After  having  crossed  the  Ohio, 
being  on  one  occasion  considerably  in  advance  of  the  rest,  the 
sound  of  a  voice  from  an  adjoining  thicket  caui-ied  him  to  halt  and 
take  his  post  behind  a  tree.  Soon  there  emerged  from  the  thicket 
two  Indians,  both  mounted  on  one  pony,  and  in  the  highest  good 
humor.  Totally  unsuspicious  of  danger  as  they  were,  one  fell 
dead  and  the  other  wounded,  by  Kenton's  fire.  But  this  seeming 
Success  was  an  unlucky  thing  for  him,  for  just  as  he  was  about  to 
fecalp  his  victims,  he  was  almost  sui rounded  by  a  party  of  about 
Forty  Indians.  By  dint  of  hard  running,  and  dodging  from  the 
shelter  of  one  tree  to  that  of  another,  he  managed  to  elude  them 
until  the  main  party  came  up,  and  in  a  furious  attack,  defeated 
the  savages.  Boone  returned  to  the  fort  with  all  of  his  party  ex- 
cept Kenton  and  a  young  man  named  Montgomery,  of  whom  we 
shall  hear  again.  These  kept  on  to  the  Indian  village,  to  "  get  a 
shot,"  and  supply  themselves  with  horses.  For  two  days  and  a 
night  they  lay  within  rifie  range  of  the  town,  but  met  with  no 
success  in  their  first  amicable  purpose.  In  the  second,  however, 
they  were  more  fortunate,  for  it  was  on  good  horses  that  once 
belonged  to  Indians,  that  they  rode  into  the  fort  after  the  siege 
was  raised. 

About  the  first  of  September  of  this  same  year  Kenton  and  Moi^w 
gomery,  with  a  companion  named  Clark,  set  out  to  the  Indian 
town  of  Chillicothe  with  the  avowed  purpose  of  stealing  horses, 
and  there  seems  to  have  been  no  opposition  to  the  expedition 


54 

|\ 

from  those  oider  and  presnmaMy  Wiser  settlers  who  remained  in 
the  fort.  Probably  Boone  was  not  there,  having  returned  to 
North  Carolina  for  his  family ;  for  Kenton,  as  we  shall  see,  dis- 
claimed being  directed  by  him. 

They  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  town  without  meet- 
ing with  any  adventures,  and  soon  discovered  a  drove  of  horses 
feeding  quietly  upon  the  rich  blue-grass  of  the  prairie.  Being 
well  provided  with  salt  and  halters,  they  succeeded  in  capturing 
seven,  and  much  elated  with  their  good  luck,  made  off  with  their  j 
prizes.  Towards  the  Ohio  they  went  with  all  speed,  expecting  to 
reach  the  settlement  some  time  in  the  night;  but  such  a  storm 
arose  that  they  found  it  impossible  to  cross.  The  wind  blew 
almost  a  hurricane,  lashing  the  swift  current  of  the^  river  into 
waves  like  those  of  the  sea,  and  through  which  the  terrified  horses 
had  no  mind  to  go.  Nothing  was  left  for  them  to  do  but  to  ride 
back  a  little  distance  into  the  hills  and  turn  the  horses  loose  to 
graze.  In  the  morning  the  wind  had  fallen,  but  the  horses  re- 
fused to  enter  the  water,  remembering,  doubtless,  the  storm  of 
the  previous  day.  Knowing  the  Indians  would  probably  be  in 
pursuit  of  them,  they  determined  to  select  the  three  best  of  the 
seven,  and  make  their  way  to  the  falls  of  the  Ohio,  where  some 
men  had  been  stationed  by  General  Clark.  Acting  on  this  plan, 
four  of  the  horses  were  turned  loose.  Hardly  had  they  set  out, 
however,  when  they  regretted  what  they  had  done,  and  returned 
to  recapture  the  animals  which  by  this  time  had  strayed  out  of 
sight. 

The  little  party  separated,  and  the  three  men  wenc  in  different 
directions,  Kenton  bending  his  steps  toward  the  point  where  they 
had  tried  to  cross  the  river  on  the  preceding  day.  Before  long 
he  heard  a  wild  whoop  from  the  direction  in  which  he  was  going. 
Dismounting  and  tying  his  horse,  he  crept  stealthily  towards  the 
sound,  to  make  observations.  Eeaching  the  high  bank  of  the 
river,  he  saw  the  Indians  very  near  him,  but  was  himself  unper- 
ceived.  So  close  to  him  was  the  party,  that,  seeing  he  could  not 
retreat  unseen,  he  adopted  the  boldest,  because  the  safest  plan, 
and  aimed  at  the  foremost  Indian.  His  gun  flashed  in  the  pan. 
With  the  speed  of  the  startled  deer  he  ran  through  the  forest, 
where  the  storm  had  torn  up  tree  after  tree  by  the  roots,  and  laid 
them  prostrate  on  the  earth.  After  him  came  the  force  of  mounted 
Indians,  but  so  much  did  the  fallen  timber  retard  them  that  they 
divided  into  two  parties,  and  rode  around  the  obstructions.  Just 


65 


as  Kenten  emerged  from  the  timber,  he  wa^  met  oiae  of  the 
Indians,  who  rode  up,  jumped  from  his  horse  and  rushed  at  him 
with  uplifted  weapon.  Drawing  back,  in  order  to  strike  the  In- 
dian with  his  gun  before  the  tomahawk  could  be  used,  Kenton 
found  himself  in  the  embrace  of  an  Indian  who  had  slipped  up 
behind.  The  main  body  having  come  up,  resistance  was  useless, 
and  Kenton  surrendered.  While  the  Indians  were  binding  Ken- 
ton with  tugs,  Montgomery  fired  at  them,  but  missing  his  aim, 
fled  and  wa«  pursued  by  those  not  guarding  Kenton.    Soon  the 


KENTON'S  MAZEPPA  RIDE. 


party  returned,  displaying  before  the  eyes  of  the  miserable  cap- 
tive the  bloody  scalp  of  his  companion.  Clark  had  escaped  their 
clutches,  and  soon  afterward  arrived  safely  at  Logan's  Fort. 

According  to  their  usual  custom,  the  Indians  took  their  prison- 
er with  them  to  their  own  town  of  Chillicothe,  thereto  determine 
his  fate  in  solemn  council.  When  they  were  ready  to  set  out 
towards  that  place,  they  proceeded  to  secure  their  prisoner  in 
such  a  way  as  to  prevent  his  escape,  and  at  the  same  time  provide 
them  with  as  much  amusement  as  possible.  Catching  the  wild- 
est horse  in  their  company,  they  lashed  their  prisoner  oi^  it,  ty- 
ing  his  feet  together  under  the  horse,  fastening  his  arms  with  a 
tope  and  then  covering  them  with  a  pair  of  mo^^asias ;  thea  tjr* 


56 


SIMON  KENTON. 


ing  a  rope  around  his  neck,  and  securing  one  end  to  the  horse's 
neck,  they  tied  the  other  end  to  his  tail  to  answer  for  a  crupper. 
Of  course  only  a  limited  number  could  assist  in  the  preparations; 
so  the  majority  amused  themselves  by  dancing  around  him  and 
inquiring,  tauntingly : 

You  steal  Injun  boss  again?  Injun  got  heap  good  boss — you 
steal  some?  Long-knife  like  Injun  boss  —  steal  whole  drove, 
Long-knife  on  Injun  boss  now,  but  he  no  steal  it/' 

The  wild  young  horse  was  set  free  from  their  restraint,  and 
ran,  rearing  and  plunging,  into  the  woods.  The  moccasins  on 
bis  hands  prevented  Kenton  from  defending  himself  from  the 
overhanging  branches,  and  he  was  so  securely  tied  that  there  was 
no  possibility  of  escape. 

The  horse,  finding  that  he  could  not  rid  himself  of  bis  burden; 
returned  to  the  company  of  bis  fellows,  and  jogged  along  with 
them  quietly  enough.  At  night  the  prisoner  was  as  securely  bound 
as  by  day.  Laid  on  bis  back,  each  foot  was  tied  to  a  stake  driven 
into  the  ground  for  that  purpose.  His  extended  arms  were  lashed 
to  a  pole  laid  across  bis  breast,  and  a  rope  tied  around  his  neck, 
almost  tight  enough  to  choke  him,  was  fastened  to  a  neighboring 
tree.  In  this  uncomfortable  position,  at  the  mercy  of  th^  numer- 
ous swarms  of  gnats  and  mosquitoes,  he  passed  three  nights.  The 
last  of  these  was  at  the  encampment  about  a  mile  from  Chillicothe, 
where  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  came  to  welcome  the  war- 
riors and  their  prisoner.  For  about  three  hours  this  party  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  tormented  the  luckless  captive,  dancing 
and  yelling  around  him,  stopping  occasionally  to  beat  and  kick 
him.  Eeturning  to  town  after  this  diversion,  they  left  him  for 
the  rest  of  the  night  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  gnats  and  mos- 
quitoes. 

As  soon  as  it  was  light  in  the  morning,  they  returned  to  the 
camp  to  make  preparations  for  more  amusement.  Kenton  was 
doomed  to  run  the  gauntlet.  The  warriors  formed  in  two  lines^ 
about  six  feet  apart,  each  armed  with  a  stout  hickory,  so  that 
they  could  beat  him  as  much  as  they  pleased.  Nor  was  this 
all.  Kenton,  his  sharp  eyes  made  sharper  by  the  danger,  saw 
more  than  one  knife  drawn  to  plunge  into  him.  Familiar  with 
the  custom  of  the  savages,  he  broke  through  the  line  before  reach- 
ing the  first  Indian  so  armed,  trusting  to  reach  the  counml  house 
before  they  could  overtake  him;  if  he  should  succeed  in  doing  so, 
h©  woul(i,not  b©  again  conapelled  to  run  the  gauntlet.    "With  all 


57 


Ms  speed  he  ran,  pursued  by  two  or  three  hundred  Indians,  yell- 
ing  like  as  many  devils  let  loose.    He  might  have  been  able  to 
-     reach  the  goal  if  he  had  not  met  an  Indian,  walking  leisurely 
from  the  town:  with  this  unexpected  foe  to  contend  with,  besides 


DESPERATE  EFFORT  TO  ESCAPE. 

the  yelling  horde  behind,  and  exhausted  by  all  that  he  had  under- 
gone during  the  past  three  days,  he  was  soon  caught  and  thrown 
down.  The  others  came  up,  and  there  was  a  repetition  of  the 
mighVs  performances;  thef  danced  and  shouted,  beating  and 
kicking  him  to  th&ir  hearVs  aenteat.    Then^  fearful  that  hid 


58 


rilMON  KENTON. 


strength  might  give  way  before  they  were  sufflciently  amused, 
they  brought  him  food  and  water. 

As  soon  as  he  was  thus  refreshed,  they  took  him  to  the  council 
house,  where  his  fate  was  to  be  decided.  The  warriors  placed 
themselves  in  a  circle,  an  old  chief  standing  in  their  midst,  with 
a  knife  and  a  stick.  Although  Kenton  did  not  understand  their 
language,  the  glance  of  the  eye  and  the  movements  of  the  hands 
told  him  plainly  that  many  urged  his  death. 

The  speeches  were  at  an  end,  and  the  old  chief  handed  a  war- 
club  to  the  warrior  who  sat  near  the  door.  By  means  of  this  the 
vote  was  to  be  taken,  a  blow  upon  the  ground  meaning  death, 
v^hile  simply  passing  it  to  the  next  meant  life.  Here,  again, 
Kenton  could  discern  their  meaning  by  their  gestures,  and  the 
votes  for  his  death  were  by  far  the  more  numerous.  The  old  chief 
tallied  all  on  his  stick,  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other,  and 
soon  declared  the  result,  when  sentence  of  death  was  passed  up- 
on the  prisoner. 

There  was  another  question  to  be  decided  which  demanded 
hardly  less  careful  consideration;  this  was  the  time  and  piace  of 
execution.  Whether  he  should  be  put  to  death  immediately,  oi 
reserved  for  solemn  sacrifice  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  tribe 
was  debated  with  considerable  warmth.  The  latter  opinion  pre- 
vailed, and  they  set  out  with  him  toward  Wapatomika.  Passing 
through  two  other  Indian  towns  on  the  way,  Kenton  was  com- 
pelled to  run  the  gauntlet  at  both,  being  severely  beaten.  All 
this  time  there  had  been  not  a  single  opportunity  to  escape,  but 
being  carelessly  guarded  at  the  latter  town  they  passed  through, 
he  made  a  break  and  ran.  However  hopeless  his  escape  from  this 
large  body  might  seem,  nothing  but  death  could  follow  failure, 
and  he  had  for  days  past  endured  a  living  death.  In  spite  of  all 
the  exhausting  tortures  which  he  had  undergone  since  his  capture, 
he  distanced  his  pursuers,  and  his  hopes  rose  high;  only  to  be 
dashed  down,  however,  for  when  he  reached  a  point  about  two 
miles  from  the  town,  he  met  a  large  party  of  Indians,  on  their 
way  to  join  his  tormentors.  These,  recapturing  him,  took  him 
back  to  the  town,  and  gave  him  again  into  the  hands  of  his  orig- 
inal captors. 

The  last  ray  of  hope  had  gone  out  in  the  night  of  despair. 
There  seemed  no  chance  of  life,  and  Kenton  sullenly  gave  him- 
self up  to  his  fate.  Of  the  horror  of  his  doom  he  had  already 
had  a  foretaste,  made  doubly  drea^dful  as  it  was  by  the  love 


SIMON  KENTON. 


50 


life  so  strong  at  three-and-twenty.  With  the  calmness  of  despair 
he  looked  upon  the  yelling  horde  around  him,  conveying  him  to 
Wapatomika  and  the  stake.  Already  had  his  skin  been  stained 
with  the  black  dye  which  showed  him  condemned  to  death,  when 
the  renegade  white  man,  Simon  Girty,  approached  him.  Com- 
rades-in-arms had  they  been,  while  serving  together  in  Dunmore's 
war;  thence  one  had  joined  the  Kentucky  settlers,  and  the  other, 
after  serving  a  short  time  in  the  American  army  against  the 
British,  had  deserted  to  the  Indians,  the  allies  of  the  latter. 
Like  all  apostates,  he  became  worse  than  those  who  were  *^to  the 
manor  born,''  and  for  twenty  years  his  name  was  the  terror  of 
the  border;  could  anything  be  hoped  from  the  man  who  was 
more  savage  than  his  terrible  allies,  who  spared  not  man,  woman 
or  child  ?  At  his  belt  hung  the  scalps,  still  reeking  with  blood, 
with  which  he  had  just  returned  ;  near  by  were  his  prisoners,  a 
woman  and  seven  children. 

When  Kenton  had  entered  the  council-house  at  Wapatomika, 
he  had  been  greeted  with  such  a  scowl  from  all  assembled  there 
as  would  have  made  his  heart  sink  if  he  had  still  entertained  any 
hope.  JSTow,  however,  he  felt  it  was  welcomed,  as  showing  that 
the  inevitable  end  was  near. 

Throwing  a  blanket  on  the  floor,  Girty,  in  his  harshest  tones, 
ordered  him  to  take  a  seat  upon  it.  Angered  by  a  momentary 
4elay,  ths  ^^white  savage ''  caught  the  prisoner's  arm,  and  jerking 
him  roughly  upon  the  blanket,  pulled  him  down  upon  it.  In  the 
same  forbidding  tone  Girty  asked  him  how  many  men  there  were 
in  Kentucky.  Kenton,  trae  to  the  last,  answered  that  he  did  not 
know,  but  that  he  could  name  the  officers  and  state  the  rank,  and 
the  questioner  could  judge  for  himself.  Thereupon  he  proceeded 
to  name  every  man  to  whose  name  a  military  "  handle''  was  at- 
tached, whether  he  had  a  command  or  not,  and  succeeded  in  giving 
an  impression  that  the  whites  were  much  stronger  than  they  were 
in  reality.  In  response  to  an  inquiry  about  William  Stewart, 
Kenton  said  that  he  was  an  old  and  intimate  acquaintance. 

^'  What  is  your  own  name  ?  "  was  the  next  question. 
Simon  Butler,"  answered  the  prisoner.  The  effect  was  elee- 
trical.  Springing  from  his  seat,  Girty  embraced  his  old  compan- 
ion with  all  the  ardor  of  a  more  emotional  nature.  Turning  to 
the  assembled  warinors,  he  spoke  in  defense  of  his  friend.  They 
had  trodden  the  war-path  side  by  side,  and  had  slept  under  th^ 
same  blanket.    His  emotion  made  him  eloquent : 


60 


SIMON  KENTON. 


Shall  I  be  denied  this  one  thing  ?  Warriors  of  the  Shawnees, 
when  has  the  hand  of  Katepacomen  been  clean,  when  that  of  his 
Indian  brother  was  bathed  in  blood  ?  Has  Katepacomen  ever 
'ipared  the  white  man's  scalp  ?  Has  he  not  brought  to  Wapato- 
mika  eight  prisoners  ?  Do  not  seven  fresh  scalps  hang  at  his  belt? 
Now  the  white  brother  of  Katepacomen  has  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  his  Indian  brothers  and  they  wish  to  torture  him.  Shall 
Katepacomen  stand  by  and  see  his  brother  eaten  bv  the  flames  ? 
To  those  w^ho  are  born  warriors  of  the  Shawnees,  the  life  of  a 
white  prisoner  is  given  for  the  asking  ;  will  my  brothers  deny  so 
little  a  thing  to  the  brother  born  among  the  white  men,  who  has 
chosen  to  live  among  the  Indians?'^ 

No  voice  but  his  own  broke  the  stillness ;  when  he  finished,  the 
deep,  guttural  tones  of  the  chiefs  spoke  both  approval  and  disap- 
proval. Some  of  them  urged  that  the  prisoner  had  already  been 
condemned  to  death,  and  that  they  would  be  acting  like  squaws 
to  be  changing  their  minds  every  hour.  Besides  this,  the  pris- 
oner richly  deserved  his  doom;  not  only  had  he  stolen  their 
horses,  but  he  had  flashed  his  gun  at  one  of  their  young  men,  and 
had  tried  his  best  to  escape.  So  bad  a  man  could  never  be  a  bro- 
ther to  them,  as  was  Girty ;  he  could  never  be  an  Indian  in  his 
heart,  like  Katepacomen.  More  than  this,  many  of  their  people 
had  come  a  great  distance  to  witness  the  execution,  and  after 
coming  so  far,  it  would  be  cruel  to  disappoint  them. 

Girty  listened  impatiently  to  this  pathetic  pleading  for  the  en- 
joyment of  the  people.  No  sooner  had  the  young  warriors  con- 
cluded their  speeches  than  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  spoke  again 
in  favor  of  his  friend: 

^^Has  Katepacomen  ever  spared  the  white  man's  scalp?  Has 
he  ever  before  pleaded  for  the  life  of  a  captive?  Never  before 
has  he  asked  a  boon  of  his  Indian  brothers,  and  now  this,  which 
they  would  grant  without  hesitation  to  one  of  their  own  race, 
they  would  refuse  to  him.  If  the  warriors  of  the  Shawnees  trust 
in  the  good  faith  and  love  of  Katepacomen,  let  them  give  him  the 
life  of  his  white  brother.'^ 

Not  a  word  did  Kenton  understand  of  these  speeches,  since  all 
used  the  Shawnee  tongue.  At  length  the  discussion  came  to  an 
end,  and  the  war-club  was  passed  around  the  assembly,  that  the 
vote  might  be  taken.  This  time  the  decision  was  for  life.  Hav- 
ing thus  succeeded  in  his  endeavors,  Girty  conducted  his  friend 
to  his  own  wigwam  and  fitted  him  out  from  his  own  wardrobe, 


SIMON  KENTON. 


61 


Kenton's  clothes  having-  beeui  tcrii  from  him  by  the  infuriated 
savages.  For  three  weeks  they  lived  a  perfectly  quiet  life,  Ken- 
ton meeting  with  the  most  friendly  and  cordial  treatment  from  the 


SIMON  GIKTY,  THE  RENEGADE. 

if^^y  cniefs  who  had  most  violently  opposed  Girty's  pleadings. 

About  twenty  days  after  hig  deliverance,  as  Grirty,  Kenton  and 
an  Indian  named  Eedpole  were  walking  together,  they  were  met 


62 


SIMON  KENTON. 


by  another  Indian,  who  repeatedly  uttered  a  pecuixcxr  whooj.. 
This,  Glrty  informed  him,  was  the  distress  halloo,  and  summoned 
them  to  the  council-house*.  Kenton  had  no  particular  love  for 
any  council-house  whatever ;  he  would  have  much  preferred  to 
give  them  all  a  wide  berth,  and  not  hold  any  very  intimate  com- 
munication with  those  who  were  assembled  there ;  but  there  was 
no  choice. 

The  Indian  who  had  hallooed,  saluted  them,  and  readily  gave 
his  hand  to  Girty  and  Eedpole,  but  refused  Kenton's.  This  was 
ominous.  It  was  but  the  beginning  of  what  was  to  come  ;  on 
reaching  the  council-house,  no  one  of  the  warriors  there  assem- 
bled would  give  his  hand  to  Kenton.  Many  of  the  chiefs  were 
strangers  from  distant  towns,  and  the  assembly  was  larger  than 
in  either  of  the  other  councils.  Once  again  the  impassioned  de 
bate  was  held — Girty  pleading  for  his  friend,  the  savages  thirst 
ing  for  his  blood.  But  the  eloquence  which  had  before  proven 
so  effective  was  lost  upon  the  stranger  warriors,  and  turning  to 
Kenton,  the  white  savage''  said,  with  a  suspicious  brightness  in 
his  eyes : 

Well,  my  friend,  you  must  die/' 

A  strange  chief  seized  the  captive  by  the  collar,  and  he  was 
quickly  bound  and  committed  to  a  guard.  With  him  they  instant- 
ly setoff,  the  Indians  being  on  horseback,  and  Kenton  on  foot,  • 
a  rope  tied  around  his  neck,  one  end  being  held  by  one  of  the 
guard.    About  two  and  a  half  miles  from  Wapatomika,  Girty 
overtook  them  and  told  Kenton  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  ; 
next  village,  in  order  to  secure  the  influence  of  some  friends  he  I 
had  there.    But  there,  as  in  Wapatomika,  the  eloquence  of  Kate- 
pacomen  was  in  vain,  and  the  white  savage,  the  terror  of  the  bor- 
der, the  most  ruthless  of  the  children  of  the  wilderness,  returned 
by  another  route  to  his  home.  He  could  not  again  see  the  friend 
he  could  not  save. 

When  they  had  gone  two  or  three  miles  beyond  the  first  vil- 
lage they  saw,  a  few  yards  from  the  trail,  a  squaw  chopping  wood, 
while  her  lord  the  warr*  r  sat  by  smoking,  to  see  that  she 
worked  industriously.  The  very  sight  of  Kenton  set  on  fire  the 
hot  blood  in  his  veins,  and  snatching  the  axe  from  the  hand  of 
the  patient  toiler,  he  rushed  upon  the  captive,  and  before  any 
defense  could  be  made,  dealt  a  blow  which  crushed  through  his 
shoulder,  shattering  the  bone,  and  almost  severing  the  arm  from 
the  body.    Eaising  the  axe  for  a  second  time,  his  arm  was 


SIMON  KENTON. 


63 


stopped  by  Kenton's  guard,  who  reproached  him  with  wishing  to 
rob  them  of  pleasure  by  the  premature  murder  of  the  victim. 

Arriving  at  a  large  village  on  the  head  waters  of  the  Scioto, 
they  halted  for  the  night.  Here,  a  chief  of  striking  and  manly 
appearance,  of  calm  and  noble  front,  speaking  English  fluently 
and  well,  his  utterance  such  as  persuades  men  to  do  his  will, 
came  up  to  Kenton.  It  was  Logan,  the  eloquent  chief  of  the  Min- 
goes,  so  highly  praised  by  the  author  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, struck  by  the  manly  beauty  and  soldierly  bearing  of 
the  young  captive,  or  perhaps  moved  only  by  his  misfortunes, 
Logan,  after  exchanging  a  few  words  with  Kenton,  said  to  him  : 

^^Well,  donH  be  disheartened;  I  am  a  great  chief;  you  are  to 
go  to  Sandusky — they  speak  of  burning  you  there, — but  I  will 
send  two  runners  to-morrow  to  speak  good  for  you." 

Cheered  by  this  promise,  Kenton  remained  quietly  at  Logan'r 
lodge  all  night  and  the  next  day,  being  permitted  to  spend  much 
of  the  time  with  the  benevolent  chief.  Logan  kept  his  promise, 
and  the  runners  were  despatched  to  Sandusky  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, returning  in  the  evening.  After  their  return,  Logan  avoided 
seeing  Kenton  until  the  succeeding  morning,  when,  walking  up 
to  him,  accompanied  by  the  guards,  he  said  : 

"  You  are  to  be  taken  to  Sandusky. 

Giving  him  a  piece  of  bread,  the  chief,  without  uttering  another 
word,  turned  and  walked  away. 

Kenton  had  been  consumed  by  the  most  intense  anxiety  since 
the  return  of  the  messengers,  and  the  conduct  of  the  friendly  chief 
did  not  tend  to  reassure  him.  There  was  nothing  to  conjecture 
but  that  Logan  had  overrated  his  influence,  that  his  intercession 
had  been  as  useless  as  Girty's,  and  that  Kenton  must  meet  the 
dreadful  fate  decreed  by  the  council.  To  Sandusky,  then,  they 
marched,  his  hope  at  the  lowest  ebb.  It  seemed  that  every  friendly 
power  failed  when  exerted  in  his  behalf,  no  matter  how  strong 
it  might  be  in  other  directions.  Despite  the  exertions  of  these 
two  friends,  he  was  to  be  burnt  at  Sandusky  the  morning  after 
his  arrival. 

But  even  then,  when  only  a  few  hours  of  life  seemed  to  remain 
to  him,  an  apparent  enemy  was  transformed  into  a  powerful 
friend. 

This  was  Captain  Drewyer^  a  French  Canadian  in  the  employ 
of  the  British  government  as  Indian  agent.  He  represented  to 
the  Indians  the  value,  to  the  co"^^*^ndant  at  Detroit,  of  a  prisoner 


64 


SIMON  KENTON. 


mtimately  acquainted  with  the  settlements  in  Kentucky,  and  by 
appealing  first  to  their  cupidity,  and  then  to  their  fears,  his  bribes 
and  threats  secured  the  loan  of  Kenton,  it  being  expressly  stip- 
ulated, however,  that  when  all  possible  h  formation  had  been  ex- 
tracted from  him,  he  should  be  returned  to  them  for  their  own 
purposes. 

Drewyer  immediately  set  out  for  Detroit  with  his  prisoner. 
While  they  were  on  their  journey,  he  told  Kenton  on  what  terms 
he  was  released  from  immediate  danger,  adding  that  he  (  Drew- 
yer )  had  no  intention  of  keeping  his  promise  by  delivering  up  to 
such  inhuman  wretches  the  life  in  his  power.  Continuing  in  this 
strain,  lauding  his  own  generosity,  he  began  to  question  Kenton 
as  to  the  number  of  men  in  Kentucky,  and  the  state  of  defense^ 
Kenton  replied  that  he  was  only  a  private,  obeying  orders  given 
bv  those  who  had  the  direction  of  affairs  3  that  being  in  so  low  a 
rank,  his  range  of  vision  was  but  narrow,  not  enabling  him  to 
judge  of  the  general  condition  of  things  ;  that  he  had  no  taste  for 
meddling  with  others,  for  he  had  found  it  quite  enough  to  take 
care  of  himself— sometimes  more  than  he  could  do.  After  this 
reply,  he  was  troubled  with  no  more  questions. 

Arriving  in  Detroit  early  in  October,  he  remained  there  in  a 
state  of  easy  restraint,  for  eight  months.  [Restricted  to  certain 
rather  wide  boundaries  during  the  day,  and  obliged  to  report 
every  morning  to  a  British  officer,  there  was  no  other  condition 
attached  to  his  comings  and  goings.  Some  time  was  required  foi 
his  recovery  from  the  effects  of  the  Indians'  brutality,  but,  once 
strong  and  well,  the  young  freeman  longed  for  his  wild  home 
again.  To  escape  from  Detroit  was  easy  enough,  but  it  would 
be  more  difficult  to  journey  safely  through  the  wilderness,  alone 
and  unarmed,  a  distance  of  two  hundred  miles,  among  Indians 
who  were  eager  for  his  death.  Even  setting  aside  the  latter  con- 
sideration, there  would  be,  in  those  trackless  forests,  no  food  but 
the  wild  game,  which  could  not  be  killed  without  a  gun. 

Carefully  and  secretly  he  laid  and  worked  out  his  plans.  Two 
young  Kentuckians,  taken  with  Boone  at  the  Blue  Licks  and  pur- 
chased by  the  British,  shared  his  thirst  for  liberty,  and  the  three 
patiently  awaited  their  opportunity.  The  most  difficult  thing 
Was  to  obtain  guns  and  ammunition  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  commandant^  but  even  this  was  overcome;  Kenton  bought  of 
two  Indians,  plied  with  rum  for  the  purpose,  their  guns,  and  hid 
the  precious  purchase  in  the  woods.    Managing  to  get  anothei* 


SIMON  KENTON. 


65 


rifle,  and  a  supply  of  ammunition,  through  a  citxi^en  of  the  town^ 
they  set  out  on  their  lonely  and  periloas  journey.  Traveling 
only  at  night,  they  reached  Louisville  after  a  march  of  just  one 
month.  Ten  months  before,  Kenton  had  started  out,  in  company 
with  Montgomery  and  Clark,  to  the  town  of  Chillicothe.  In  the 
space  of  a  month,  he  had  been  exposed  to  the  ordeal  called  run- 
ning the  gauntlet  no  less  than  eight  times;  three  times  had  he 
been  tied  to  the  stake  to  suffer  the  most  horrible  death  known 
to  fiendish  ingenuity;  and  the  intervals  had  been  times  of  the 
greatest  possible  mental  anguish. 

Arrived  in  Kentucky,  he  was  by  no  means  disposed  to  rest  up- 
on his  laurels,  and  to  live  upon  the  memory  of  what  he  had  suf- 
fered. Had  he  been  made  of  such  stuff,  he  would  not  have  had 
the  intercession  of  either  Girty  or  Logan;  the  one  knew  by  ex- 
pericnce,  the  other  by  instinct,  what  manner  of  man  he  was,  and 
it  was  the  manhood  within  him  that  they  would  have  rescued. 
From  his  arrival  in  Kentucky,  then,  until  1782,  he  was  constant- 
ly in  active  service,  as  guide,  scout  and  officer.  In  the  latter  year, 
a  piece  of  unexpected  good  news  reached  him.  Hearing,  for  the 
first  time  in  eleven  years,  from  his  old  home  in  Yirginia,  he  learn- 
ed that  Lcitchman,  the  rival  of  whose  death  he  thought  himself 
guilt}',  v/as  yet  alive,  having  soon  recovered  from  the  consequences 
of  the  fight.  Dropping  the  name  of  Butler,  and  assuming  his  own 
again,  he  returned  to  visit  his  parents,  and  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing them  to  remove  to  Kentucky.  Friendly  relations  were  also 
established  with  Leitchman  and  his  wife.  Simon  Kenton's  father 
died  on  the  journey,  but  the  others  reached  Maysville  (  or  the 
site  of  the  present  town  )  and  founded  there  a  settlem  ent  on  the 
very  spot  where  he  had  pitched  his  first  camp  on  Kentucky  soil. 
Being  so  near  the  Indians,  however,  did  not  contribute  to  the 
peace  of  the  town,  and  incursion  and  raid  were  frequent.  Kenton 
never  let  such  inroads  pass  without  severe  retaliation,  and  in 
1793  he  drove  back  the  last  of  the  dusky  invaders  into  the  Ohio 
country.  In  the  succeeding  year  he  served  as  major  in  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne's  "  campaign,  but  was  nOt  present  at  the  victory 
which  closed  it. 

But  with  peace  to  the  borders  came  trouble  to  Kenton.  The 
same  difficulties  which  beset  Boone  in  regard  to  the  title  to  his 
land,  came  to  Kenton,  and  even  his  body  was  seized  for  debt. 
To  escape  the  persecutions  of  the  speculators,  he  moved  over  to 
the  Ohio  wilderness  in  1797,  or,  according  to  another  authority. 


6(3 


SIMON  KENTON. 


in  1802.  Living  there  quietly  enough,  the  lestful  monotony  of 
the  farmer's  life  was  broken  in  the  year  1813,  when,  joining  the 
Kentucky  troops  under  Grovernor  Shelby,  he  was  present  at  the 
battle  of  the  Thames-  Eeturning  to  his  cabin,  he  continued  to  live 
near  Urtana  until  1820,  when  he  removed  to  a  spot  within  sight 
of  what  h-ad  been  the  Indian  town  of  Wapatomika,  the  scene  of 
so  many  adventures  forty-two  years  before. 

But  misfortunes  continued  to  follow  him,  and  the  very  land 
which  he  tilled  had  to  be  entered  in  the  name  of  his  wife.  lie 
had  owned  large  tracts  of  land  in  Kentucky,  but  they  had  beconu^ 
forfeited  to  the  state  for  taxes.  In  1824  he  undertook  cu  go  to 
Frankfort,  to  ask  of  the  Kentucky  Legislature  a  release  of  the 
forfeiture.  Saddling  his  sorry  old  horse,  he  set  out  on  his  jour- 
ney,  stopping  the  first  night  at  the  house  of  Major  Galloway,  in 
Xenia,  Ohio.  This  friend,  seeing  the  shabby  outfit  of  the  old 
pioneer,  gave  vent  to  his  honest  indignation  against  a  country 
that  could  leave  the  old  age  of  so  faithful  a  servant  to  penury. 

Don't  say  that,  Galloway,'/  said  the  old  man,  drawing  his  tall 
figure  to  its  full  height,  his  gray  eyes  flashing  fire  as  they  did  but 
rarely ;  Don't  say  that,  or  I'll  leave  your  house  forever,  and 
never  call  you  my  friend  again." 

Arrived  at  Frankfort,  the  old  man  cut  but  a  shabby  figure  in  the 
now  busy  streets,  that  he  had  known  as  glades  in  the  forest  and 
bufPalo-paths  through  the  cane-brakes.  His  tattered  garments, 
his  dilapidated  saddle  and  bridle,  and  his  old,  almost  broken 
down  horse,  excited  universal  derision  from  the  thoughtless  mul- 
titude. But  no  one  dreamed  that  this  was  Simon  Kenton.  Truly, 
a  prophet  is  not  without  honor,  save  in  his  own  country,  and 
among  his  own  people. 

But  a  rescuer  came,  in  the  person  of  General  Fletcher,  an  old 
companion-in-arms.  Hearing  the  story  of  the  pioneer,  this  friend 
in  n  :od  took  him  to  a  store  and  fitted  him  out  with  a  good  suit  of 
clothes  and  a  hat,  and  then  escorted  him  to  the  State  Capitol/ 
Here,  seated  in  the  Speaker's  chair,  the  most  prominent  men 
present  in  the  city  were  introduced  to  him,  and  he  was  made  to 
feel  that  the  place  giver  to  him,  in  their  minds,  was  second  only 
to  Boone's.  "With  this,  he  was  more  than  content,  and  for  years 
afterward  did  he  3peak  of  this  as  proudest  day  in  his  life.''' 
General  Fletcher's  kindness  was  highly  appreciated,  as  he  prob- 
ably kept  that  suit  of  clothes  and  the  hat  until  his  death :  certain 
it  is  that  ten  years  after  this  they  were  still  in  active  service 


SIMON  KENTON. 


67 


flis  mission  was  crowned  with  entire  success.  Not  only  were 
his  lands  gladly  released  by  the  Legislature,  but  the  exertions 
Or  some  friends  secured  from  Congress  a  pension  of  S250,  thus  se- 
curing his  old  age  from  absolute  want.  Eeturning  to  his  cabin 
On  the  banks  of  Mad  Eiver,  he  spent  his  few  remaining  years  in 
cnlm  and  quiet,  passing  peacefully  away  at  the  ripe  age  of  eighty- 
Oiie  in  the  year  1836.  He  was  buried  near  the  home  of  his  declin- 
ing years,  within  sight  of  the  spot  where,  nearly  half  a  century 
before,  the  Indians  had  bound  him  to  the  stake  ;  and  thus  passed 
away  the  second  pioneer  of  Kentucky — of  the  great  region,  ir 
deed,  west  of  the  Alleghanies. 


CHAPTER  III. 


i)THEE  HEEOES  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  B002fE. 


THE  WETZELS. 


F  all  the-  heroes  of  the  border,  who  lived  in  the  latter  years 


of  the  last  and  the  earlier  part  of  the  present  century,  there 
are  none  whose  names  are  dearer  to  those  who  love  tales  of  ad- 
venture, than  the  Wetzels.  Western  Virginia  was  a  wilderness 
when,  in  the  year  1772,  old  John  Wetzel,  a  rough  but  brave  and 
honest  German,  settled  there  with  his  family  of  five  sons  and 
two  daught^jrs.  Nor  was  such  a  course  any  less  dangerous  than 
it  appears.  The  boys  were  but  children,  the  youngest,  Lewis, 
being  eight  or  nine  years  old,  and  could  not  afford  any  assistance 
in  defending  the  home,  if  it  should  be  attacked  by  the  treacher- 
ous denizens  of  the  woods.  But  in  the  rough  school  of  the  fron- 
tier, boys  quickly  learned  to  be  men.  and  John  Wetzel  probably 
soon  had  help  from  his  sons  in  his  occupation  of  hunting  and 
fishing,  and  in  locating  lands.  Their  home  was  at  some  distance 
from  the  fort,  a  position  of  no  small  danger  in  those  ^times,  when 
the  Indians  were  so  troublesome.  Many  adventures  are  recorded 
of  his  five  sons,  and  none  without  interest.  Handed  down  from 
father  to  son,  published  in  the  newspapers  of  later  date  without 
any  reference  to  other  parts  of  the  heroes^  lives,  isolated  in  the 
same  way  in  books  of  adventure,  it  is  only  with  great  difficulty 
that  they  can  be  arranged  in  order;  and  even  when  the  utmost 
care  is  used  in  sifting  the  early  adventures  from  those  of  a  later 
time,  the  position  of  some  must  be  guess-work.  The  youngest  of 
these  brothers,  Lewis,  is  the  one  around  whose  name  the  deeds 
of  daring  cluster  most  thickly.  Let  us,  then,  follow  the  course  of 
his  life,  turning  aside  occasionally  to  notice  Martin  or  George. 
John  or  Jacob,  as  the  case  may  be. 

The  heat  of  the  contests  with  the  Indians  seemed  to  have  pass- 
ed away  in  1778,  and  no  fear  was  felt  of  sudden  incursions  from 
theme    Lewis  and  Jacob,  both  mere  boys,  were  playing  near  the 


TKilJ  WETZELS. 


69 


hotise,  whew  Lewi»,  turning  around  suddenly,  naw  the  oarrel  of  a 
gun  protruding  from  behind  a  corn  crib.  Quick  as  thought  he 
jumped  backward,  but  too  late,  for  a  ball  wounded  him  severely 
in  the  chest.  Hardly  had  the  sho":  been  fired,  when  two  dusky 
giants  leaped  from  their  shelter  upon  the  boys  and  carried  them 
olf.  On  toward  their  village  across  the  Ohio  they  went,  passing 
that  river  on  the  second  day.  The  bullet  had  ploughed  its  way 
over  almost  the  whole  width  of  Lewis'  chest,  r.nd  the  wound  was 
excessively  painful  3  nor  did  the  rapid  pace  at  which  they  went 
tend  to  subdue  the  fever  in  his  hot  young  blood'  but  he  knew 
too  well  the  fate  of  an  Indian's  prisoner,  if  he  were  too  weak  to 
keep  pace  with  his  captor,  and  to  avoid  the  tomahawk,  bore 
his  pain  with  composure. 

The  Ohio  between  the  young  captives  and  their  homes,  the  In- 
dians relaxed  their  vigilance,  and  did  not  tie  the  boys  the  next 
night.  The  camp-fire  died  down,  the  night  wore  on,  and  the  two 
warriors  were  fast  asleep.  With  the  light,  quick  step  which  he 
had  learned  from  the  Indian  fighters  who  frequented  his  father's 
house,  and  indeed,  from  his  father  and  elder  brothers,  Lewis  rose 
and  went  to  Jacob's  side.  A  touch  awakened  the  sleeping  boy, 
and  signs  told  him  his  brother's  plan.  Noiselessly  they  stole 
away  and  pushed  into  the  woods.  They  had  gone  about  a  hun- 
dred yards,  and  their  feet  were  torn  and  bleeding ;  many  weary 
miles  had  yet  to  be  traveled. 

We  cannot  go  barefooted,"  said  Lewis;  "  I  will  go  back  and 
get  moccasins." 

Back  to  the  camp  he  stole  with  noiseless  tread,  and  soon  re-  o 
turned  with  the  desired  protection.  Going  a  little  farther,  an- 
other want  was  discovered — they  were  unarmed.  Back  again  to 
the  camp  went  Lewis,  arid  with  a  gun,  escaped  for  the  third  time 
in  safety.  At  their  utmost  speed  they  went,  but  not  fast  enough 
to  wholly  distance  the  Indians.  The  warriors  had  soon  discovered 
the  absence  of  the  captives,  and  knowing  well  the  point  at  which 
the  boys  would  aim,  followed  in  haste,  but  fortunately  not  noise^ 
lessly.  The  boys  heard  their  pursuers,  and  slipped  aside  from 
the  trail  that  they  had  been  following;  the  Indians  passed  on- 
ward, but  soon  returned ;  the  Wetzels  had  eluded  them,  however, 
and  reached  the  Ohio  in  safety.  Lashing  two  logs  together,  they 
crossed  the  stream,  and  soon  reached  home. 

It  was  about  four  years  after  this,  when  Lewis  was  near  eigh- 
teen, that  he  had  what  is  perhaps  the  most  famous  fight  of  his 


THE  WETZELS. 


life.  An  expedition  into  the  Indian  country,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Col.  Crawford,  had  resulted  most  disastrously]  the  com- 
mander and  many  of  his  subordinates  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
put  to  the  torture;  many  were  killed;  a  few  escaped,  and  ar- 
rived, breathless  with  their  speed  and  terror,  at  the  nearest  set- 
tlements. One  of  these  fugitives  had  left  his  horse  at  Indian 
Spring,  and  pushed  on  to  Wheeling  on  foot.  Arrived  there,  he 
persuaded  Lewis  Wetzel  to  go  back  with  him  to  the  spring  for  his 
horse.  Wetzel  knew  the  danger,  and  spoke  of  it,  but  Mills  was 
determined  to  regain  possession  of  the  animal,  and  they  went 
together.  Beaching  the  neighborhood  of  the  spring,  they  spied 
the  horse  tied  to  a  tree  near  the  water.  This  was  an  unmistaka- 
ble sign,  and  Wetzel  warned  Kills  of  the  danger;  the  latter,  how- 
wer,  was  deaf  to  all  his  companion  could  say,  and  started  toward 
the  spring  to  unfasten  the  animal.  A  sharp  crack — another — and 
he  fell  mortally  wounded. 

Wetzel  knew  that  his  only  safety  was  in  flight,  and  ran  at  his 
utmost  speed.  Pour  Indians  bounded  from  the  shelter  of  the 
trees  whence  they  had  fired  upon  Mills,  and  followed  him  with 
fleet  footsteps.  The  fugitive  would  soon  be  theirs,  and  in  glad 
anticipation  of  a  prisoner  to  be  tortured,  or  of  a  scalp  to  be 
added  to  the  string  of  ghastly  trophies,  they  aroused  the  echoes 
with  their  fiendish  yells.  Half  a  mile  they  ran,  and  one  of  the 
savages  was  so  close  upon  his  heels  that  Lewis,  dreading  the 
tomahawk,  turned  and  shot  him  dead.  Any  pause  would  be  fatal, 
for  even  if  he  reloaded  and  shot  another,  there  would  still  be 
^  two  more  pursuers  to  whom  such  a  delay  would  be  an  incalcula- 
ble advantage.  There  was  no  need  to  stop,  however,  for  he  had 
acquired  the  ability  to  load  his  gun  while  at  a  full  run,  and  this 
invaluable  art  was  now  called  into  use.  Another  half  mile,  and 
he  was  still  in  advance,  though  but  slightly;  as  he  turned  to 
fire,  the  foremost  Indian  caught  the  muzzle  of  iiis  gun,  and  the 
struggle  was,  for  a  moment,  of  doubtful  issue.  The  savage  had 
nearly  wrested  the  weapon  from  the  hands  of  his  antagonist, 
when,  gathering  all  his  strength  for  one  last  efl'ort,  Lewis  re- 
gained possession  of  his  gun,  and,  with  its  muzzle  touching  the 
Indian's  neck,  fired,  killing  him  instantly. 

The  end  of  the  contest  had  not  come  a  moment  too  30on,  for 
the  others  had  nearly  overtaken  him.  Springing  forward,  he  elud- 
ed their  grasp,  until,  having  had  time  to  reload,  he  slackened  his 
pace  slightly,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  the  sport.    A  glance 


THE  WETZELS. 


71 


around,  howerei,  wjuld  send  his  pursuers  behina  trees  to  shelter 
themselves  from  that  terrible  gun,  never  unloaded.  Another 
mile  was  passed  in  this  manner,  and  at  last  a  comparatively  oper. 
spot  was  reached.  Turning  here,  he  pointed  his  piece  at  tl) 
foremost  Indian ;  the  tree  did  not  shelter  him  altogether,  and  he 
fell,  dangerously  wounded.  The  fourth  Indian  retreated  in  he  ' 
haste,  to  tell  his  brethren  of  the  magic  power  he  had  escaped; 
and  doubtless  many  a  camp-fire  heard  the  story  of  the  long-haired 
youth  whose  gun  was  always  loaded. 

It  was  probably  about  this  time  that  Jacob  Wetzel  and  Simon 


LEWIS  WETZEL  LOADING   WHILE  RUNNING — "HIM  GUN  ALWAYS  LOADED." 


Kenton  decided  to  go  on  a  fall  hunt  together  into  the  hilly  coun- 
try near  the  mouth  of  the  Kentucky  Eiver.  Arriving  at  the  se- 
lected ground,  they  found  unmistakable  Indian  sign.^^  They 
had  no  notion  of  retreating  without  finding  how  many  warriors 
there  were  near,  and  moving  cautiously  about,  and  following 
the  firing  which  they  heard  from  time  to  time,  they  discovered 
the  camp  about  evening  on  the  second  day.  Keeping  themselves 
concealed  until  night,  they  saw,  by  the  light  of  the  fire  that  was 
kindled,  five  well-armed  warriors.  In  defiance  of  that  law  which 
enjoins  a  night  attack  for  an  inferior  force,  that  its  numbers  may 
be  magnified  by  fear  and  uncertainty;  they  decided  to  defer  th© 


72 


THE  WETZELS. 


fight  until  dawn  ;  perhaps  because  the  flickering  light  of  the  fire 
might  make  one  miss  his  aim.  Lying  behind  a  log  which  would 
serve  for  concealment  and  a  rampart,  they  awaited  the  coming 
of  light.  At  the  first  dawn  of  day,  their  guns  were  cocked,  the 
triggers  drawn,  and  two  Indians  felL  WetzeFs  rifle  was  double- 
barreled,  and  the  third  man  was  killed  almost  as  soon  as  the  first. 
Having  now  to  contend  with  equal  numbers,  they  bounded  over 
the  log  and  were  in  the  camp  almost  before  the  remaining  Indians 
had  recovered  from  their  first  surprise.  Eesistance  was  useless, 
for  they  thought  that  there  must  be  many  Long-knives^'  near, 
and  the  terrified  Indians  sought  safety  in  flight.  The  fleet-footed 
hunters  followed  with  even  greater  speed,  and  soon  returned  to 
the  camp,  each  with  a  bloody  scalp  at  his  belt. 

Hitherto,  the  Wetzels  had  acted  in  self-defense,  or,  as  all  the 
settlers  did,  had  attacked  the  Indians  to  prevent  the  savages  from 
attacking  them ;  but  after  1787,  a  new  element,  the  desire  of  re- 
venge, was  added  to  their  motives.  Old  Wetzel  was  returning 
home  in  a  canoe  with  a  single  companion,  when  they  were  hailed 
by  a  party  of  Indians  on  shore  and  ordered  to  land ;  they  of 
course  refused,  and  were  rowing  for  their  lives  when  they  were 
fired  upon  and  Wetzel  shot  through  the  body — mortally  wounded. 

'^Lie  down  in  the  canoe,''  he  said  to  his  companion,  ^^and  I 
mil  paddle  as  long  as  my  strength  lasts — maybe  then  we'll  be 
out  of  range.'' 

The  dying  man  rowed  on,  and  as  they  approached  the  settlement 
the  Indians  ceased  to  pursue  them  ;  his  heroism  saved  the  life  of 
his  friend,  and  made  his  sons  relentless  enemies  of  the  savages. 

It  was  probably  but  a  short  time  after  his  father's  death  thatMar^ 
tin  Wetzel,  the  eldest  of  the  brothers,  was  surprised  and  captured 
by  the  Indians.  For  a  long  time  escape  was  impossible,  for  he 
was  carefully  and  closely  watched;  but  after  months  had  passed, 
and  he  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  to  remain  where  he  was,  he 
was  accorded  greater  liberty;  and  finally,  he  acquired  their 
confidence  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was  adopted  into  one  of  their 
families.  With  three  young  warriors  he  started  on  a  fall  hunt, 
and  the  party  encamped  near  the  head  of  the  Sandusky  Eiver^ 
Here  Martin  was  very  careful  to  return  to  camp  first  in  the  eve- 
ning, prepare  wood  for  the  night  and  perform  all  the  other  offi- 
ces which  a  warrior  finds  so  distasteful ;  in  this  way  he  made 
still  greater  progress  in  their  confidence.  But  all  the  while  he 
l^as  planning  to  escape  j  not  merely  that,  but  to  take  a  signal 


THE  WETZELS. 


73 


vengeance  for  his  father^s  death  and  his  own  long  captivity.  One 
afternoon,  as  he  was  hunting  at  some  distance  from  the  camp,  he 
came  upon  one  of  his  Indian  companions.  The  unsuspecting  sav- 
age parted  from  him  after  a  momentary  greeting,  and  a  few  sec- 
onds afterward  fell,  pierced  to  the  heart  by  a  ball  from  AYetzeFs 
rifle.  Concealing  the  body  in  the  hollow  made  by  the  torn-up 
roots  of  a  tree,  and  covering  it  with  brush  and  dead  leaves,  ha 
-returned  to  camp. 

Wood  was  gathered  for  the  night,  and  supper  prepared.  When 
the  two  Indians  returned,  Martin  innocently  inquired  about  th( 
third;  neither  had  seen  him.  As  time  went  on,  and  still  the  mur- 
dered savage  did  not  come,  Wetzel  expressed  great  concern  about 
his  absence. 

Maybe  he  find  new  hunting-ground  far  of^/^  suggested  one, 
with  an  indiiferent  air.  Later  on,  Martin  again  gave  vent  to  his 
anxiety  in  words,  and  another  explanation  was  proifered : 

Maybe  he  follow  turkey  too  far  to  come  back.  He  CHm23  in 
woods.'' 

The  Indians,  he  saw,  were  completely  off  their  guard,  and  it 
only  remained  for  him  to  decide  whether  he  would  attack  them 
separately  or  both  at  once.  Concluding  the  former  to  be  the 
better  plan,  when  they  set  out  in  the  morning  he  follow^ed  one  at 
a  safe  distance.  Cautiously  pursuing  him  until  near  evening,  he 
pretended  to  meet  him  unexpectedly,  and  began  to  talk  about  the 
day's  hunt.  Chatting  gaily  for  a  while,  Martin's  lynx  eye  watch- 
ed the  Indian's  every  motion ;  the  savage  turned  aside  for  a  mo- 
ment, when  crash!  went  the  white  man's  tomahawk,  cleaving  his 
skull.  A  hollow  near  by  concealed  the  body,  and  Wetzel  went 
back  to  camp. 

The  third  destined  victin?  approached,  bending  under  the  load 
of  game  which  he  had,  s'not.  Sunning  forward  to  disencumber 
him  of  his  burden,  as  the  Indian  supposed,  his  relentless  toma- 
kawk  descended,  and  crushed  out  the  life  of  the  last  barrier  be-. 
tween  him  and  freedom.  There  was  now  no  danger  of  j^ursuit, 
and  Wetzel  leisurely  gathered  up  what  he  chose  to  take  with  him, 
not  forgetting  the  scalps  of  his  three  victims,  and  reached  home 
in  safety  after  an  absence  of  nearly  a  year. 

An  adventure  of  Lewis  Wetzel's,  which  some  authorities  plac€  in 
1786,  will  not  be  out  of  place  here.  By  frequent  incursions  upon 
the  set!:lements,  the  Indians  had  so  aroused  the  whites  that  a  re- 
taliatory expedition  was  organized^  Lewis  Wetzel  being  one  of 


74 


THE  WETZELS. 


the  party.  Scouts  brought  in  the  news  that  tue  mai-aaders  were 
too  many  to  be  attacked  by  them,  and  a  council  of  war  being 
held  it  was  decided  to  return  home.  The  party  quickly  prepared 
to  retrace  their  steps,  and  many  had  already  departed,  when  th^ 
commander,  seeing  Wetzel  seated  carelessly  on  a  log,  with  hib 
gun  lying  across  his  knees,  asked  him  if  he  were  not  going. 

'No/^  answered  Lewis,  with  a  glance  of  contempt  at  his  flying 
comrades;  I  came  out  to  hunt  Indians,  and  now  that  they  are 
found,  I  am  not  going  home  until  I  take  a  scalp,  unless  I  lose  my 
own.'' 

Persuasions  were  of  no  use.  Sullenly  he  sat  in  the  same  posi- 
tion on  the  log,  waiting  until  the  last  white  man  was  out  of  sight; 
then,  shouldering  his  rifle,  and  assuring  himself  that  scalping- 
knife  and  tomahawk  were  ready  for  use,  moved  olf  in  an  oppo- 
site direction,  hoping  to  meet  with  a  small  party  of  Indians.  Ev- 
ery precaution  was  taken  to  prevent  being  surprised,  and  every 
efi'ort  made  to  find  any  Indians  that  might  be  lurking  in  his 
neighborhood,  but  night  fell,  and  he  had  not  seen  any.  A  fire 
was  necessary,  but  he  dared  not  let  its  light  be  seen;  so  he  con- 
structed a  small  coal-pit  out  of  bark  and  leaves,  covered  with 
loose  earth,  and  by  covering  his  fire  and  himself  with  his  blanket, 
succeeded  in  keeping  warm  without  endangering  himself  by 
showing  a  light. 

The  next  day  better  success  attended  him,  for  he  found,  to- 
wards evening,  a  tenantless  camp,  which  two  blankets  and  a  ket- 
tle showed  was  not  deserted.  The  owners  of  these  articles,  he 
supposed,  were  out  hunting.  Hiding  himself  in  the  thick  under- 
growth, he  patiently  awaited  their  return.  They  came  in  about 
sunset,  and  about  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  one  of  them,  shouldering 
his  rifle,  started  out  to  attend  to  a  deer  trap  that  he  had  set. 
Impatiently  Lewis  awaited  his  return,  but  dawn  drew  near,  and 
h-e  was  unfortunately  obliged  to  leave  the  camp  with  only  one 
scalp.  This  was  taken  without  difliculty,  as  he  Crept  to  the  side 
of  the  sleeper  and  with  one  blow  sent  his  scalping  knife  through 
the  heart  of  the  savage.  Returning,  he  reached  the  settlement 
one  day  after  his  companions  had  arrived  there. 

On  one  occasion  he  determined  to  go  on  a  fall  hunt  into  the 
Indian  country.  Penetrating  as  far  as  the  Muskingum,  he  came 
upon  a  camp  containing  four  Indians.  Only  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion as  to  whether  he  should  attack  such  a  party,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  take  the  risk.  Creeping  cautiously  to  a  covert  near  the 


THE  WETZELS. 


75 


^amp,  whence  he  ild  see  every  movement  of  his  enemies  as 
they  moved  about  the  fire,  he  waited  until  all  were  asleep.  Si- 
lently leaving  his  liding  place,  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  un- 
conscious Indians.  ( 'rash!  went  the  tomahawk,  and  the  skull  of 
one,  and  almost  in  tL  ,)  same  instant,  of  a  second,  he  had  laid  open. 
The  noise  of  the  bh  ^s,  slight  though  it  was,  had  awakened  a 
third,  who  had  scarce  y  struggled  to  his  feet  before  he  shared  the 
fate  of  his  comrades  The  fourth  was  more  fortunate,  for  he  es- 
caped by  flight. 

Did  you  have  a^  y  luck  ?  inquired  a  friend,  on  his  return 
from  this  hunt.'' 

''Not  much,''  replied  Lewis,  ''I  tree'd  four  Indians,  but  one 
got  away." 

In  1789,  a  fort  haa  been  erected  where  Marietta  now  stands, 
and  its  commander,  (J-en.  Harmar,  was  very  anxious  to  make  a 
treaty  with  the  Indians.  For  this  purpose  he  sent  messengers 
with  a  white  flag  to  the  nearest  Indian  tribes,  to  invite  them  to 
the  fort,  that  he  might  treat  with  them.  With  great  difficulty 
were  they  finally  persuaded  to  lay  aside  their  distrust  of  the 
''Long-knives,"  and  accept  the  invitation. 

In  order  to  slightly  understand  what  followed,  we  must  remem.- 
ber  the  spirit  which  then  animated  the  whites  in  the  wars  against 
the  Indians.  Such  were  the  treachery  and  the  cruelty  of  the  sav- 
ages that  the  white  men  felt  it  must  be  a  war  of  extermination. 
Of  course  the  soldiers  sent  here,  who  had  been  used  to  dealing 
with  a  difl'erent  foe,  did  not  apprecic^te  this  feeling  of  the  men 
born  in  forts  and  grown  up  through  a  series  of  sieges,  but  en- 
deavored to  deal  with  the  Indiana  as  they  were  accustomed  to 
treat  more  open  and  honorable  enemies.  The  frontiersmen 
would  not  put  any  faith  in  an  Indian's  word,  and  not  believing 
that  the  savages  would  keep  treaties,  were  themselves  by  no 
no  means  backward  in  violating  such  engagements.  When, 
therefore.  Gen.  Harmar  succeeded  in  persuading  the  Indians  to 
come  to  the  fort,  Lewis  Wetzel  recognized  it  as  an  excellent  op" 
portunity  for  fresh  triumphs  over  his  enemies. 

With  a  companion  nearly  as  daring  as  himself,  he,  according 
to  the  plan  which  they  agreed  upon,  found  a  spot  which  would 
answer  for  their  purpose,  and  lying  here  in  ambush,  they  shot  at 
an  Indian  who  rode  by  at  full  speed.  He  did  not  fall,  and  they 
thought  that  the  shot  had  missed  him.  It  was  known  among 
their  neighbors  on  what  errand  Wetzel  and  his  companion  had 


76 


THE  WETZELS. 


gone,  and  on  their  return  they  were  questioned  ^o  their  suc- 
cess. They  did  not  dream  that  the  Indian  had  been  seriously 
hurt,  but  he  was  mortally  wounded,  and,  riding  into  the  fort,  died 
that  night.  Eumor  soon  informed  Gen.  Harmar  who  had  killed 
him,  and  he  despatched  a  j)arty  of  men  to  take  Wetzel,  dead  or 
alive.  Such  was  the  anger  of  his  neighbors,  however,  that  they 
resolved  to  form  an  ambuscade  and  kill  the  soldiers  who  should 
attempt  to  take  Lewis.  Happily  the  commander  of  the  force  was 
persuaded  to  return  without  making  the  desperate  attempt,  and 
Lewis  considered  the  whole  thing  disposed  of  to  the  satisfaction 
of  all  concerned. 

Shortly  afterward,  however,  he  found  that  Gen.  Harmar  was  by 
no  means  of  the  same  opinion,  for  while  at  the  house  of  a  friend 
he  was  surprised,  captured  and  taken  to  the  fort,  where  he  was 
loaded  with  irons.  To  the  liberty-loving  woodsman,  this  confine- 
ment was  as  intolerable  as  the  disgrace  of  being  treated  like  a 
criminal.  Chafing  under  the  restraint,  he  sent  for  Gen.  Harmar, 
who  speedily  came. 

Don't  hang  me  up  like  a  dog,''  he  said;  ^Mf  you  don't  want 
to  let  me  go,  put  me  in  the  middle  of  a  party  of  Indians  armed 
v>nth  scalping  knives  and  tomahawks;  give  me  a  tomahawk  and 
let  mo  fight  it  out  with  them." 

Gen.  Harmar,  with  lofty  dignity,  replied  that  he  must  act  in 
conformity  with  the  law  of  which  he  was  an  officer,  and  which 
did  not  allow  him  to  make  such  a  compromise,  and  the  poor  pris- 
oned woodsman  was  once  more  left  to  himself.  Not  many  days 
had  passed  before  he  again  sent  for  the  commander. 

^^I've  never  been  used  to  keeping  so  close  in  the  house,  and  I 
3annot  live  much  longer  shut  up  here  without  exercise,"  he  com- 
plained. 

Accordingly,  the  guard  was  ordered  to  knock  the  fetters  off, 
leaving  only  the  handcuffs,  and  to  permit  him  to  walk  about  on 
the  point  at  the  mouth  of  the  Muskingum.  Loosed  from  the  fet- 
ters, that  had  weighed  on  his  heart  no  less  heavily  than  on  his 
limbs,  and  breathing  the  free  air  of  heaven  once  more,  he  frol- 
icked about  like  a  young  deer  released  from  a  trap.  Starting 
suddenly  away  from  them,  as  if  to  escape,  he  would  run  a  few 
yards  and  then  return  to  the  guards  that  accompanied  him  out- 
slue  the  fort.  This  was  repeated  several  times,  the  distance  on 
t.'ach  run  being  a  little  greater,  until,  his  guards  having  become 
ii^^^ed  to  it,  he  ran  nearly  a  hundred  yards  before  they  discovered 


Wetzel's  escape  from  the  gua&d« 


THE  WETZELS. 


that  he  was  really  attempting  to  escape.  They  fired,  but  missed 
their  aim,  and  he  soon  outran  those  pursuing  him. 

He  knew  the  country  well,  and  could  thus  readily  elude  the 
less  skilled  woodsmen.  Making  for  a  dense  thicket  two  or  three 
miles  from  the  fort,  he  squeezed  under  a  log,  and  lay  there  cov- 
ered by  the  thick  brush,  safe  from  discovery,  even  when  two 
keen-eyed  Indians  stood  upon  the  log  under  which  he  lay.  Gradu- 
ally the  footsteps  of  his  pursuers  died  away,  their  cries  were  lost 
in  the  distance,  and  as  night  came  on,  he  found  himself  alone  in 
the  thicket.  But  on  this  side  of  the  Ohio,  he  had  no  friend  on 
whom  he  could  rely,  and,  handcutfed  as  he  was,  he  could  not 
swim  across  it.  Creeping  cautiously  down  to  the  river,  he  saw, 
at  the  opposite  side,  an  acquaintance  in  a  canoe,  fishing.  Gently 
splashing  in  the  water,  he  succeeded  in  gaining  this  man's  atten- 
tion^ and  was  by  him  ferried  ever  the  river.  Once  on  the  Vir- 
ginia side,  he  was  in  the  midst  of  devoted  admirers  and  friends, 
who  would  die  for  him  before  they  would  allow  him  to  be  retaken. 

Gen.  Harmar,  however,  was  not  so  easily  discouraged,  but  years 
afterward  offered  a  reward  for  Lewis  Wetzel,  dead  or  alive. 
Zeal  for  the  execution  of  the  law,  however,  was  confined  to  his 
breast,  for  no  one  claimed  the  reward,  although  many  could 
have  captured  him. 

Not  long  after  his  return  he  was  invited  to  accompany  a  rela- 
tive to  his  home  on  Dunkard  Creek.  Accepting  the  invitation, 
they  reached  their  destination  only  to  find  the  house  a  heap  of 
smoking  ruins.  Wetzel  declared  the  trail  to  indicate  that  the 
marauders  were  three  Indians  and  a  white  man,  and  that  they  had 
carried  off  one  captive.  This  was  the  betrothed  of  the  host,  and 
he  insisted  upon  following  them  immediately.  Wetzel,  nothing 
loath,  assented,  and  they  pushed  on,  hoping  to  overtake  the  ma- 
rauders before  they  reached  the  Ohio.  Despite  the  pains  which 
had  been  taken  to  hide  the  trail  and  deceive  the  pursuers^  Wet- 
zel, guessing  what  course  they  had  taken,  took  a  bee-line  for  the 
point  at  which  he  thought  they  would  aim.  Night  came  on,  bui 
still  they  continued  their  journey,  guided  by  the  light  of  tne 
moon,  until  midnight;  then  this  help  failed  them,  and  they  restea 
for  the  few  remaining  hours  of  the  night.  At  dawn  they  were 
again  upon  their  way,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  saw,  among  otner 
fresh  footsteps  in  the  sand,  the  print  of  a  little  shoe,  evidently  of 
a  white  woman.  Just  at  daijk,  they  discovered  the  encampmeut 
upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.   Swimming  the  stream,  they 


THE  WETZELS. 


79 


made  sare  of  the  position  of  the  captive,  and  several  other  points 
aDout  the  camp;  but  although  the  frantic  lover  urged  an  immedi- 
ate attack,  Wetzel  insisted  upon  postponing  it  until  morning. 

At  dawn  the  savages  were  preparing  to  continne  their  journey, 
when  two  rifles  were  fired  from  the  thicket,  at  the  same  instant, 
with  fatal  effect;  one  shot  killing  an  Indian,  one  the  renegade 
white  man.  The  lover  sprang  forward  into  the  camp  as  soon  as 
he  had  fired,  to  release  the  captive,  and  Wetzel  pursued  the  two 
Indians  into  the  woods.  Firing  his  rifle  at  random,  they  rushed 
toward  him  before  he  could  reload,  as  they  thought,  but  the  gun 
was  already  prepared  for  execution,  and  its  contents  sent  into 
the  body  of  the  nearest  pursuer.  Loading  as  he  ran,  he  again 
wheeled  and  fired,  and  the  last  of  the  party  lay  dead  before  him. 

In  1790,  a  dense  forest  of  maple  and  beech  covered  much  of 
the  ground  now  occupied  by  Cincinnati,  the  town  extending 
about  two  blocks  along  the  river  front  from  Main  Street  to 
Broadway.  One  early  October  day  Jacob  Wetzel  had  gone 
hunting,  and  had  met  wnth  great  success.  His  load  of  game  was 
too  heavy  for  his  own  shoulders,  and  he  had  started  to  the  town 
to  borrow  a  horse.  But,  tired  and  w^arm,  he  sat  down  to  rest 
upon  a  tempting  log  by  the  river  side,  near  the  mouth  of  Mill 
Creek.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  rustling  in  the  trees  near  him. 
His  faithful  dog  gave  a  low  growl,  and  then  was  silent  at  his 
master's  gesture  of  command.  Springing  behind  a  tree  Wetzel 
made  ready  to  fire  upon  the  game  or  the  enemy,  as  the  case 
might  be.  A  glance  from  his  shelter  show^cd  him  a  burly  In- 
dian, likewise  shielded  by  a  tree.  A  loud  bai'k  from  the  dog 
told  the  savage  that  he  was  discovered,  and  raising  his  rifle  he 
fired.  But  Wetzel  had  been  a  little  too  quick  ;  the  white  man 
fired  first  and  his  ball  struck  the  Indian's  left  arm,  breaking 
it  near  the  elbow;  and  Wetzel  was  unhurt. 

Regardless  of  the  pain,  the  Indian  endeavored  to  reload,  but 
Wetzel  sprang  upon  him  with  his  knife.  With  lightning  rapid- 
it}^  the  Indian  changed  his  purpose,  and  parried  his  enemy's 
first  stroke  with  his  own  blade.  More  than  that,  the  shock 
threw  Wetzers  w^eapon  far  out  of  reach.  Though  thus  unarm- 
ed, the  scout  was  not  helpless.  Throwing  himself  upon  the  sav- 
age, he  seized  the  dusky  right  arm,  so  that  the  knife  was  useless 
to  his  enemy.  The  Indian,  however,  was  worthy  to  contend 
with  a  Wetzel.  For  a  moment  they  swayed  back  and  forth  in 
this  close  embrace ;  then,  as  their  feet  became  interlocked-  ^lall 


80 


THE  WETZEL8. 


to  the  earth,  the  Indian  uppecrmost.  But  Wetzel  was  indomit- 
able. By  one  mighty  effort  he  forced  the  Indian  over  on  his 
right  side,  so  that  he  had  no  use  of  either  arm. 

Had  Wetzel  been  armed,  the  contest  would  now  have  been 
decided;  but  in  his  efforts  to  gain  possession  of  the  savage's 
knife,  he  relaxed  his  grasp ;  and  the  muscular  redskin  was  again 
uppermost.  The  white  man  lay  upon  the  ground,  the  Indian's 
knee  upon  his  breast,  the  Indian's  eyes  gleaming  with  deadly 


JACOB  WETZEL  SAVED  BY  HIS  DOG. 

hate  above  him  as  the  knife  was  raised  high  for  a  deadlier  blow. 
One  instant  more,  and  it  would  have  been  sheathed  in  his  heart. 
Suddenly  the  hunter's  dog  sprang  at  his  master's  triumphant 


THE  POES. 


81 


foe,  seizing  him  by  the  throat.  The  knife  fell  from  the  Indian's 
hand,  almost  within  Wetzel's  grasp.  Wrenching  himself  free, 
the  white  man  seized  the  weapon,  and  the  contest  was  no  longer 
doubtful. 

Securing  the  Indian's  scalp  and  weapons,  the  hunter  went  on 
his  way;  but  before  he  was  well  out  of  sight  of  the  spot,  he 
heard  the  whooping  of  a  considerable  number  of  Indians.  Run- 
ning to  the  river,  he  was  lucky  enough  to  find  a  canoe,  in  which 
he  made  his  way  to  town.  The  savage  had  been  one  of  the 
bravest  and  most  famous  chiefs  of  his  tribe. 

Lewis  Wetzel  has  been  called  the  Boone  of  West  Virginia,  but 
the  title  can  hardly  be  allowed.  Boone  is  the  type  of  the  fron- 
tiersman whose  name  is  known  to  history  as  the  father  of  a  set- 
tlement; Lewis  Wetzel  is  famous  in  tradition  as  a  wild  borderer. 
Both  classes  of  characters  were  necessary  to  the  establishment 
and  preservation  of  settlements  ;  the  wilder,  more  unsettled  In- 
dian fighter  roaming  the  country,  and  giving  information  of  dan- 
ger to  the  men  in  the  forts.  It  is  true  that  Boone  did  not  have 
much  of  this  assistance ;  Boonesborough  was  too  far  in  the  van 
of  the  army  of  pioneers.  Still,  the  difference  in  the  stability  of 
character  remains ;  but  however  unknown  to  graver  history  may 
be  the  names  of  the  Wetzels,  the  traditions  respecting  them  wili 
long  linger  around  the  places  that  they  have  defended  from  the 
incursions  of  the  Indians. 

THE  POES. 

Whether  it  is  due  to  the  character  of  the  settlers,  whether  we 
possess  larger  stores  of  information  regarding  them,  or  whether 
the  Indians  made  a  more  determined  stand  there  than  any- 
where else,  the  State  of  Kentucky  and  its  near  neighbors  seem  tc 
possess  more  traditions  of  border  adventure  than  any  others. 
Perhaps  that  sectional  pride  which  in  New  England  has  pre 
served,  and,  it  is  hinted,  multiplied  the  relics  of  the  Mayflower, 
and  which  in  Yirginia  delights  in  the  magic  letters  "  P.  F.  V.,'' 
here  preserves  the  stories  of  adventure — we  cannot  tell.  The 
fact  remains,  be  the  explanation  what  it  may,  that  this  re- 
gion would  seem  to  well  deserve  its  name  of  "  The  Dark  and 
Bloody  Ground.'' 

Among  the  heroes  of  the  border  whose  names  are  associated 
with  the  same  time  and  place  that  knew  the  Wetzels,  were  two 


82 


THE  P0E8. 


brothers,  Adam  and  Andrew  Toe.  The  adventure  of  the  latter 
with  "^wo  Indians  is  a  story  often  told,  but  which  will  bear  one 
more  repetition.  In  the  spring  of  1781,  the  Indians  had  made 
several  raids  upon  the  white  settlements  in  what  is  now  Wash- 
ington County,  Penns^  ^'vania,  but  was  then  a  part  of  Virginia. 
This  was  the  home  of  botn  ;.he  Poes,  and  of  many  a  brave  bor- 
derer besides,  and  none  were  inclined  to  tolerate  these  inroads. 
A  woman  and  a  child  had  been  murdered,  an  old  man  carried 
off  as  a  prisoner,  and  excited  by  such  outrages,  it  was  not  many 
hours  before  the  whole  settlement  was  ready  to  pursue  the  sav^ 
ages.  Twelve  men  on  horseback  set  out  to  follow  the  trail,  but 
were  soon  compelled  to  dismount.  Andy's  experienced  eye  de- 
tected that  the  Indians  were  not  far  off,  and  bcggec'  his  compan- 
ions to  be  quiet,  so  that  the  savages  would  not  be  provoked  into 
killing  their  prisoner.  His  request  was  disregarded,  and  he  left 
the  company,  going  directly  to  the  bank  of  the  river.  He  had 
not  gone  far  before  he  saw  the  Indian  canoes  at  the  water's  edge, 
and  not  seeing  any  Indians,  went  cautiously  down  the  bank,  with 
his  rifle  cocked.  When  about  half-way  down,  he  saw  two  Wyan- 
dots,  standing  below  within  a  few  feet,  looking  in  the  direction 
of  the  party  that  he  had  left.  One  was  gigantic  in  size;  far  larger 
than  Poe,  who  was  remarkable  for  his  stature  and  strength;  the 
other  was  small;  both  were  fully  armed,  and  had  their  guns 
cocked.  Eetreat  was  impossible,  and,  hastily  deciding  that  he 
would  kill  the  big  Indian  and  take  the  little  one  a  prisoner,  Poe 
took  aim.  His  gun  missed  fire.  Thus  betrayed  to  the  savages, 
he  concealed  his  exact  position  by  hiding  in  the  thick  bushes  for 
a  moment,  until  the  larger  party  overtook  five  other  Indians, 
who,  with  the  prisoner,  were  farther  down  the  stream.  Creeping 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  bank,  he  again  pointed  his  rifle  at  the  big 
Indian,  but  for  a  second  time  it  failed  him.  Dropping  the  rifle, 
he  sprang  upon  them.  They  had  wheeled  around  when  his  gun 
snapped,  but  had  not  had  time  even  to  raise  their  rifles  before 
the  struggle  commenced.  Catching  each  around  the  neck,  and 
throwing  his  weight  suddenly  upon  the  larger  of  the  two,  Big- 
foot,  he  drew  both  to  the  ground  with  him. 

As  Ihey  fell,  in  their  surprise  both  Indians  dropped  their  guns, 
and  their  other  arms,  fortunately  for  Poe,  were  all  on  the  canoes. 
Andrew  had  only  his  scalping-knife,  but  it  was  hwd  to  reaoh  in 
his  present  position.  Bigfoot  lay  flat  on  his  back  upon  the  ground ; 
Poe  had  fallen  with  his  left  side  upon  him ;  while  slightly  h& 


THE  POE8. 


hind  tno  white  man,  to  his  right,  was  the  little  Indian ;  each  oi 
the  three  struggling  for  dear  life.  Poe  made  several  efforts  to 
get  at  his  knife,  in  order  to  despatch  the  warrior  under  him., 
but  Bigfoot,  catching  his  hand,  held  it  in  an  iron  grasp,  talking* 
all  the  while,  in  his  own  language,  to  his  comrade.  Suddenly 
his  grasp  was  relaxed,  and  the  knife,  coming  out  of  the  scab- 
bard with  unexpected  ease,  flew  out  of  Andrew's  hand.  At  the 
same  time,  the  little  Indian  jerked  his  head  from  under  his  cap- 
tor's  arm,  and  sprang  to  the  canoes.  Bigfoot,  thus  left  alone 
with  his  enemy,  threw  his  long  arms  about  him  and  held  him 
tight  until  the  return  of  the  little  Indian  with  a  tomahawk.  The 
savage  took  aim,  but  just  as  the  tomahawk  was  about  to  leave  his 
hand,  a  well  directed  kick  from  Poe  upon  his  wrist  sent  the  mis- 
sile flying  into  the  river.  A  furious  yell  expressed  Bigfoot's  an- 
ger at  the  little  Indian,  who  had  thus  allowed  himself  to  be  de- 
feated, and  who  now  returned  to  the  canoes  for  another  weapon. 

The  second  effort  bade  fair  to  be  more  successful.  Approach- 
ing the  prostrate,  struggling  men,  the  little  Indian  engaged  in  a 
series  of  feints,  intended  to  divert  Poe's  attention  from  his  real 
object.  Poe  was  on  the  alert,  however,  and  saw  through  his 
maneuvers.  At  last  the  real  blow  was  struck,  aimed  at  his  head; 
but  throwing  up  his  arm,  he  received  the  blow  upon  his  right 
wrist;  the  tomahawk,  glancing  off,  flew  over  his  head.  The  little 
Indian  regained  his  weapon,  and  was  advancing  the  third  time  to 
the  attack,  when  Poe,  wrenching  himself  from  Bigfoot's  grasp  by 
a  powerful  effort,  caught  hold  of  a  gun  and  shot  him.  The  more 
powerful  antagonist  now  remained  to  be  disposed  of,  nor  was  this 
an  easy  task  to  the  wounded  white  man.  Bigfoot  had  regained 
his  feet  as  soon  as  Poe,  and  the  little  Indian's  body  had  not  fallen 
before  he  caught  Andrew  by  a  shoulder  and  a  leg  to  throw  him 
into  the  river.  Poe  was  on  his  guard  against  such  an  attempt, 
and  grasped  the  Indian's  neck  so  tightly,  just  as  he  was  in  the 
act  of  throwing,  that  both  went  together  into  the  water.  Here, 
each  had  the  same  object  in  view — to  drown  the  other  ;  and  the 
struggle  v; as  long  and  fierce.  Carried  out  farther  and  farther 
into  the  stream,  now  one,  now  the  other  had  been  uppermost, 
holding  his  antagonist  under  the  water,  until  they  were  full  thirty 
yards  from,  the  shore.  At  last  Poe  seized  the  tuft  of  hair  on  the 
crown  of  the  Indian's  head,  and  kept  him  under  water  until  he 
thought  he  was  dead.  Exhausted  with  the  loss  of  blood  from 
his  wound,  ^and  with  the  long  strugfirle,  he  released  his  hold  and 


THE  P028. 


85 


swam  with  his  left  arm  toward  shore.    But  Bigfoot  had  been 

playing  possum/^  and  now,  escaped  from  AndreTv\s  grasp,  made 
for  dry  land.  It  was  a  race  to  see  which  should  first  gain  posses- 
sion of  the  one  loaded  rifle  which  lay  upon  the  bank.  Poe,  dis- 
abled by  his  wound,  could  swim  but  slowly,  and  Bigfoot  gained 
the  coveted  prize.  But  the  gun  was  uncocked,  and  in  attempt- 
ing to  cock  it  in  haste,  he  injured  the  lock.  The  other  was  un- 
loaded, as  its  contents  had  killed  the  little  Indian, 

Adam  Poe,  having  heard  the  discharge  of  the  rifle  which  An 
drew  had  fired,  now  came  to  the  assistance  of  his  brother;  his  gun 
however,  was  unloaded,  ias  he  had  fired  at  one  of  the  other  party 
of  Indians.  The  victory  now  belonged  to  the  one  who  could  first 
load.  Luckily  for  the  brothers,  the  Indian  drew  the  ramrod  too 
hastily  from  the  thimbles  of  the  stock,  and  it  fell  a  short  distance 
from  him.  He  quickly  regained  it,  but  too  late ;  the  momentary 
delay  was  fatal  to  him,  in  giving  his  enemy  the  slight  advantage 
he  desired.    Adam  took  deadly  aim  and  shot  him  dead. 

Immediately  Adam  jumped  into  the  river  to  help  his  brother, 
who  was  almost  fainting,  to  shore.  But  if  the  flesh  was  weak, 
the  spirit  was  still  strong. 

^^Let  me  alone,''  cried  Andrew;  "Fll  get  out.  Get  his  scalp 
before  he  rolls  into  the  river.'^ 

But  his  brother's  life  was  an  object  of  more  interest  to  Adam 
than  any  scalp  he  could  take,  and  despite  Andrew's  protests,  the 
dying  Indian,  jealous  of  his  honor  even  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
was  allowed  to  reach  the  river  and  get  into  the  current.  His 
body  was  carried  off,  and  his  scalp,  that  pride  and  ornament  of 
the  warrior,  never  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 

"While  this  desperate  contest  was  going  on,  the  main  body  of 
tho  whites  had  overtaken  the  Indian  party,  recaptured  the  pris- 
oner, and  with  the  loss  of  one  of  their  number,  slain  all  but  one 
of  their  enemies.  Attracted  by  the  sounds  of  the  Poes'  fi-ght, 
they  came  to  the  tardy  relief  of  the  brothers;  but,  mistaking 
Andrew,  who  was  still  in  the  water,  for  a  wounded  Indian,  one 
of  them  fired  and  hurt  him  severely  in  the  shoulder.  He  re- 
covered from  his  injuries,  however,  and  lived  for  many  j^ears ; 
telling  over  and  over,  in  his  old  age,  the  story  of  this  desperate 
encounter. 

Bigfoot  and  his  four  brothers,  all  killed  in  this  fight,  were  wg^r- 
riors  of  high  repute  among  the  Wyandots,  and  their  death  wus  a 
severe  loss  to  the  tribe.    Despite  their  well  known  lenity  to  the 


:vhites.  v  ^  ivo  this  iiijnry. 

di  war^  ior  was  despatched  to  avenge  his  kinsmen,  but  returned 
fv^ithou^  executing  his  purpose. 

MAJOR  SAM  MCCULLOCH. 

But  1  hese  were  not  the  only  heroes  of  the  time,  nor  the  only 
^expioit^.  Selecting  from  a  mass  of  interesting  traditions  those 
most  striking,  we  find  the  scene  is  laid  at  a  rude  frontier  fort 
near  heeling.  The  capital  of  West  Yirginia  was  then  a  little 
village^  containing  not  more  than  twenty-five  rude  log  huts,  and 
Port  Henry,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  was  its  defense.  In  its 
early  days  it  was  invested  by  a  force  of  Indians,  four  hundred 
strong.  The  terrified  settlers  fled  to  the  fort,  there  to  defend 
themselves  and  their  families.  Of  the  forty-two  men,  twenty-six 
had  fallen  before  the  siege  was  well  begun,  and  help  was  neces- 
sary. Messengers  had  safely  reached  the  neighboring  settlements, 
and  one  little  party  of  fifteen  fought  its  way  into  the  fort  with- 
out the  loss  of  a  man.  But  now  they  descry  a  throng  of  horse- 
men approaching,  numbering  more  than  their  whole  force — it  is 
Major  McCulloch,  the  famous  ranger,  with  forty  followers.  The 
Indians  are  thick  around  the  band,  but  before  them  are  the  gates 
of  the  fort,  opened  to  receive  them,  and  they  fight  desperatelj^. 
More  than  one  Indian  warrior  bites  the  dust  before  them,  and  at 
last  they  dash  triumphantly  into  the  fort. 

But  one,  the  commander  himself,  has  been  cut  ofi*;  a  hundred 
Indians  are  between  McCulloch  and  the  station  ;  a  host  who  know 
so  well  the  injuries  which  his  daring  courage  has  before  inflicted 
upon  their  race,  that  they  are  determined  to  take  him  alive,  and 
inflict  the  most  exquisite  tortures  they  can  devise  upon  their  en- 
emy. He  finds  it  useless  to  try  to  gain  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and 
knowing  that  his  life  depends  upon  the  speed  of  his  horse,  rides 
away,  pursued  in  hot  haste.  Before  him,  beside  him,  behind  him, 
throng  an  innumerable  host  of  red-skins;  on  one  side  only  there 
are  none — it  is  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  the  river.  A  moment  he  halts  j  the  Indians  have  not  fired 
a  shot,  and  he  knows,  only  too  well,  what  that  means  ;  choosing 
to  be  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocky  banks  of  Wheeling  Creek, 
rather  than  to  undergo  the  tortures  which  await  him,  he  drives 
his  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  the  noble  animal,  as  though  appre- 
ciating the  alternative,  leaps  into  the  yawning  gulf.  Down,  down, 
one-half  the  distance,  before  the  echoes  of  the  triumphant  shouts 


JOE  LOGSTON. 


87 


>f  the  Indians  diod  away ;  and  the  horse's  hoofs  at  last  strike  tho 
smooth  face  of  the  rock,  and,  sliding  and  scrambling,  steed  and 
rider  roll  into  the  stream  below.  Only  his  own  shout  of  triumph 
flow  breaks  the  stillness  as  he  recovers  himself  and  reaches  the 
farther  shore,  for  the  savages  stand  awe-struck  at  the  heroic  dar- 
ing of  the  man  who  has  escaped  them.  Returning  to  the  siege, 
they  found  that  Major  McCulloch  was  not  the  only  brave  white 


Mcculloch's  ljeap. 


man  alive,  for  the  fort  was  so  obstinately  defended  that  they 
were  soon  forced  to  retreat  from  a  bootless  attack. 

A  SLIPPERY  ANTAGONIST, 

Of  all  the  mountaineers  of  early  Kentucky,  Big  Joe  Logs- 
ton'^  was  one  of  the  largest  and  strongest,  if  indeed  he  did  not 
stand  first  in  these  respects.  Eaised  among  the  AUeghenies,  he 
found,  like  many  another  pioneer,  that  he  had  not  elbow-room, 
with  neighbors  only  five  or  six  miles  away ;  and  when  tiiey  came 
even  nearer  than  that,  he  picked  up  his  few  rude  belongings 
and  sought  the  banks  of  Barren  Eiver,  where  only  the  roving 
Indians  would  be  his  neighbors.  Of  these,  however,  he  had  no 
fear ;  indeed,  he  had  none  in  his  heart  for  any  ©reated  being. 


88 


JOE  LOGSTON. 


He  had  not  been  there  long,  before  the  Cherokees  began  their 
inroads  upon  the  settlements.  Warning  was  given  that  the  sav- 
ages would  soon  be  upon  them,  and  much  against  his  will,  Joe 
was  persuaded  to  take  shelter  within  a  stockade.  Not  for  his  own 
safety;  he  knew  he  was  abundantly  able  to  take  care  of  himself; 
but  every  man  helped  to  strengthen  the  garrison.  Bat  he  soon 
regretted  his  self-sacrifice.  Being  shut  up  within  a  high  fence, 
waiting  for  Indians  who  would  not  come,  was  by  no  means  to 
his  taste,  and  he  tried  to  persuade  some  of  his  companions  to 
sally  forth  with  him  in  search  of  adventure.  Failing  in  this,  he 
urged  that  they  ought  to  go  out  to  look  after  their  cattle,  which 
had  been  abandoned  when  they  fled  to  the  stockade;  but  every 
argument  was  in  vain ;  they  would  not  leave  their  shelter. 

If  they  were  determined  to  stay,  Joe  was  equally  determined 
to  go,  and  disgusted  at  their  love  of  safety,  he  mounted  his  good 
steed  and  went  forth  alone.  The  cattle  were  not  to  be  found,  for 
the  Indians  were  not  likely  to  let  such  a  prize  slip  out  of  their 
fingers.  The  sun  had  already  long  passed  the  meridian,  and  was 
luw  in  the  western  sky.  His  search  for  cattle  and  adventure 
must  be  concluded,  for  he  must  reach  the  stockade  before  night- 
fall. Over  his  path  hung  a  wild  grapevine,  heavily  loaded  ;  and 
tempted  by  the  luscious  fruit,  he  stopped  to  gather  a  quantity. 
Every  bunch  within  reach  was  secured,  for  it  would  be  an  eager- 
ly welcomed  addition  to  the  fare  at  the  fort.  His  rifle  lay  across 
the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  as  he  rode  carelessly  along,  refreshing 
himself  with  the  grapes. 

Suddenly  two  rifle  shots  were  heard,  almost  at  the  same  mo- 
ment; and  as  the  horse  fell  dead  beneath  him,  Joe  felt  a  sting- 
ing across  his  chest.  Leaping  at  once  to  his  feet,  he  caught  up 
his  rifle,  ready  to  defend  himself.  Flight  might  have  saved  him, 
for  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  swiftest  man  in  that  part  of 
the  country;  but  he  disdained  to  save  himself  by  his  heels  while 
his  rifle  remained  to  him.  Hardly  had  he  regained  his  feet  when 
a  large,  athletic  Indian  leaped  out  from  the  wooded  shelter,  di- 
rectly towards  him.  Aiming  hastily  at  the  advancing  foe.  Logs- 
ton  was  about  to  pull  the  trigger,  when  the  wily  savage,  seeing 
that  he  was  discovered,  jumped  behind  a  sapling.  This  was 
not  large  enough  to  shelter  him,  however,  and  the  nearest  tree 
was  of  similar  girth.  The  Indian  could  only  dance  back  and 
forth  between  the  two,  to  unsteady  the  Kentuckian's  eye,  until 
help  should  come  from  another  direction. 


JOE  LOGSTON. 


89 


Keeping  his  eye  upon  the  redskin  dancing  for  dear  life,  Joe 
looked  cautiously  about  him  for  another  enemy;  for  he  under- 
stood why  the  giant  savage  kept  in  motion.  He  soon  descried  a 
second,  partially  sheltered  behind  another  slender  tree,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  woodland  path.  This  newly  discovered  foe  was 
evidently  reloading,  for  a  second  shot  at  the  white  man.  As  he 
rammed  home  his  ball,  he  exposed  one  hip;  Logston  instantly 
turned  his  rifle  from  the  big  savage,  and  fired. 

As  he  fell  to  the  earth,  his  comrade  uttered  a  wild  and  pierc- 
ing yell,  and  rushed  with  uplifted  tomahawk  upon  the  white 
man.  The  theatre  of  war  was  a  natural  opening  in  the  forest, 
about  forty  feet  in  diameter.  Nearly  in  the  center  stood  Logston. 
He  had  not  had  time  to  reload,  and  could  not  now  give  his  at- 
tention to  it;  the  remaining  enemy's  every  movement  must  be 
watched.  When  the  savage  was  within  fifteen  feet  of  the  white 
man,  he  cast  his  tomahawk  with  terrific  force;  but  Joe  had  not 
watched  him  so  narrowly  for  nothing.  Springing  lightly  aside 
at  the  very  moment  the  hatchet  left  the  Indian\s  hand,  he  escap- 
ed the  blow;  and  the  tomahawk  buried  itsdf  in  the  earth,  be- 
yond the  reach  of  either  antagonist. 

Hoping  to  gain  a  shelter  where  he  would  beable  to  reload,  the 
Indian  turned  and  fled  to  a  clump  of  bushes  beyond  the  edge  of 
the  clearing;  after  him  ran  his  fleet-footed  enemy,  with  rifle 
ready  clubbed  for  the  blow.  But  the  redskin  had  too  great  a 
start  in  so  short  a  race,  and  was  in  the  bushes  before  the  while 
man  caught  him.  Hither  and  thither  he  flew,  now  standing  erect 
a  moment,  then  dodging  a  blow  which  must  have  been  fatal; 
now  crouching  low,  out  of  Logston's  reach,  then  darting  to  an- 
other part  of  the  thicket;  while  all  the  time  the  twigs  and 
branches  bent  and  rattled  beneath  the  rifle.  At  last  came  Joe's 
golden  opportunity.  Gathering  all  his  immense  strength  forthe 
final  blow,  he  raised  his  weapon.  It  descended  with  fearful  force 
— not  on  the  Indian^s  shaven  head  and  ornamented  scalp-lock,  as 
he  had  promised  himself,  but  upon  the  tree  near  which  the  In- 
dian had  been  for  an  instant.  The  rifle  was  broken  off  close  by 
the  barrel,  and  even  the  remaining  piece  flew  from  his  hand, 
which  was  almost  intolerably  stung  by  the  force  with  which  he 
had  dealt  the  blow. 

They  were  now  more  equally  matched,  for  if  Joe  was  heavy 
and  strong,  the  Indian  was  lithe  and  active  as  a  panther;  and 
they  both  were  without  weapons,  except  those  with  which  na- 


90 


JOE  LOGSTON. 


ture  had  provided  tbem.  The  savage,  who  was  so  encumbered 
by  the  brush  about  him  that  he  could  hardly  escape  by  flight, 
and  who,  besides,  desired  to  avenge  his  comrade,  sprang  upon 
Logston,  yelling  like  a  devil  just  let  loose.  The  ball  fired  at  the 
very  beginning  of  the  fight  had  ploughed  its  way  across  the 
whole  expanse  of  Joe's  broad  chest,  and  the  blood,  streaming 
freely  from  the  wound,  had  crimsoned  the  whole  front  of  hig» 
buckskin  hunting-shirt.  The  Indian,  perceiving  this,  promised 
himself  an  easy  victory,  as  his  antagonist  must  soon  be  weakened 
by  the  loss  of  so  much  blood. 

The  giant  enemies  grappled,  but  each  found  that  vict<>ry  would 
be  less  easy  to  gain  than  he  had  thought.  Logston's  strength 
and  endurance  disappointed  the  savage;  while  the  white  man 
found  his  opponent  as  hard  to  hold  as  ever  was  an  eel  or  a 
greased  pig.  His  supple  body,  naked  from  the  waist  up,  and  but 
scantily  clothed  below,  had  been  thoroughly  anointed  with 
bear's-grease;  and  he  readily  slipped  away  whenever  the  white 
man  made  an  effort  to  throw  him. 

For  so. time  they  wrestled  thus,  the  Indian  coming  up  ^*fresh 
and  smiling'^  at  the  end  of  every  round.  Joe  found  that  he  must 
soon  put  an  end  to  this,  or  he  would  be  breathless.  An  instant 
the  two  foes  stood  glaring  at  each  other;  then,  as  if  at  a  pre-ar- 
ranged signal,  bv,  ti  sprang  forward  at  once.  Again  they  grap- 
pled,  but  this  time  Logston  made  no  attempt  to  hold  his  slippery 
antagonist  down.  Jumping  back  a  foot  or  so,  he  allowed  the 
breathless  savage  to  regain  his  feet.  As  he  staggered  forward, 
not  yet  having  fully  recovered  his  balance,  Logston  dealt  him  a 
tremendous  blow  full  between  the  eyes.  The  savage  again  fell 
sprawling,  but  not  yet  ready  to  give  up  the  contest,  sprang  to  his 
feet,  only  to  find  his  enemy's  fist  again  in  close  proximity  to  his 
face.  After  many  such  bouts,  the  Kentuckian  dealt  him  a  blow 
on  the  side  of  the  head  which  completely    laid  him  out." 

Springing  upon  the  prostrate  body  of  the  insensible  savage, 
one  knee  planted  on  the  dusky  breast,  Logston  gripped  his  ene- 
my's throat  as  with  a  hand  of  iron.  A  little  while,  and  the  end 
would  have  come  to  the  conflict. 

But  the  Indian  was  tougher  than  he  had  thought;  he  had  re- 
gained consciousness  when  Logston  first  sprang  upon  him.  The 
white  man  was  wholly  unarmed,  but,  swung  to  the  red  man's  belt, 
was  a  knife  in  a  close-fitting  sheath.  So  tight  a  fit  was  it,  indeed, 
and  so  long  the  sheath,  that  he  must  get  it  out  by  gently  pushing 


JOE  L0G8T0N. 


91 


at  the  point.  At  this  he  was  nov  working;  but  it  must  be  done 
so  slowly  and  quietly  as  not  to  attract  his  foe's  attention. 

Vain  hope,  Cherokee!  The  pale-faced  giant  above  you  has  felt 
the  slight  quivering  of  your  body  as  you  move  your  arm,  and  has 
looked  down  to  see  the  cause.  He  makes  no  movement  until  the 
handle  of  the  knife  protrudes  from  the  deep  sheath  ;  then,  with 
lightning-like  rapidity  he  dashes  away  the  dusky  hand  that  would 
have  grasped  the  weapon,  seizes  it  himself,  and  plunges  it  deep 
into  the  heart  of  his  prostrate  foe. 


AN  INDIAN'S  FIRST  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  MANLY  ART. 


Meanwhile,  what  had  become  of  the  other  Indian?  Had  his 
vvounds  proved  fatal,  or  had  he  taken  himself  off  to  secure  assis- 
tance? This  was  a  question  which  demanded  an  immediate  answer, 
and  Joe  lost  no  time  in  trying  to  find  out.  He  found  him  desper- 
ately hurt,  but  not  so  near  death  but  what  he  still  thought  of  re- 
venge. His  back  had  been  broken  by  the  ball,  but,  propping 
himself  up  against  a  tree-trunk,  he  would  try  to  raise  the  gun 
loaded  at  such  a  fearful  cost  to  himself;  but  the  effort  would  bo 
too  much,  and  he  would  again  fall  forward. 

Perceiving  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  feared  from  him,Log- 
ston  left  him  and  proceeded  to  the  fort,  which  he  was  anxious  to 


JOE  LOGSTON. 


reach  before  dark,  as  he  was  without  arms,  and  there  was  no  tell- 
ing how  many  Indians  might  be  prowling  about  the  woods. 
Making  the  best  of  his  way  thither,  without  horse,  hat  or  gun, 
as  he  was,  and  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  blood  and  dirt,  he 
was  received  with  wonder,  sympathy  and  admiration. 

The  next  day  a  party  was  made  up  to  visit  the  scene  of  the 
combat,  with  a  view,  doubtless,  to  securing  the  scalps  of  the  two 
Indians;  for  the  white  men,  as  we  have  already  seen,  had  adopt- 
ed this  barbarous  practice  of  mutilating  their  dead  enemies. 
Then,  too,  Logston's  story  was  so  wonderful  that  they  wanted 
some  proof.  Arrived  at  the  clearing,  the  body  of  the  dead  horse 
was  the  only  visible  sign  of  the  combat  that  had  taken  place; 
but  a  diligent  search  revealed  a  trail,  along  which  something 
had  been  dragged.  Following  this  up,  they  came  upon  the  body 
of  the  big  Indian,  lying  beside  a  log,  and  nearly  covered  with 
dead  leaves.  Near  him  his  knife  had  been  driven  into  the  ground, 
and  stamped  down  by  a  naked  heel.  A  hundred  yards  farther 
on,  they  found  the  body  of  the  Indian  whose  back  had  been 
broken,  his  own  knife  driven  in  his  breast  to  the  hilt.  He  had, 
with  almost  incredible  exertion,  considering  his  condition,  bu- 
ried his  fallen  friend  as  well  as  his  strength  would  permit,  and 
then,  finding  his  sufferings  no  longer  supportable,  crawled  away 
to  end  them  by  death. 

But,  fortunate  Indian  fighter  as  he  had  shown  himself.  Big  Joe 
Logston  was  not  destined  to  fall  in  combat  with  the  red  man. 
Peace  was  declared  soon  after  this,  and  for  several  years  there 
were  no  Indian  depredations  in  that  part  of  the  country.  In- 
stead, white  marauders  infested  the  region,  and  it  was  in  a  fight 
with  these  that  Logston  was  killed,  four  or  five  years  after  the 
fight  with  his  slippery  antagonist. 


CHAPTER  IV, 


THE  CEAWFOED  EXPEDITION. 

THE  conversion  of  the  Indians  to  Christianity  had  long  been 
a  favorite  missionary  project  when,  in  1752,  a  Pennsylvanian 
society  was  established  for  that  purpose  by  the  Moravians.  The 
work  prospered,  and  in  less  than  thirty  years  there  were  three 
co4onies  of  converted  Delawares  located  on  the  banks  of  the 
Muskingum  at  Guadenhutten,  Salem  and  Shoenbrun.  During  the 
many  wars  which  had  taken  place  since  the  beginning  of  the 
movement,  these  Christian  Indians  had  never  faltered  in  their 
love  of  peace  ;  and  they  had  frequently  given  information  of  the 
movements  planned  by  hostile  tribes,  thus  enabling  the  whites 
to  prepare  for  defense.  They  aimed  to  be  neutral  in  the  strife 
then  raging  on  the  borders,  but  this  course  excited  the  suspicion 
of  both  parties.  The  warlike  red  men,  preparing  for  a  foray, 
would  stop  at  the  Moravian  settlements  and  help  themselves  to 
food,  ammunition  and  whatever  else  they  needed.  The  peaceful 
Delawares  were  powerless  to  prevent  this,  but  the  whites  re- 
garded them  as  willing  agents.  Thus  they  were  literally  be- 
tween two  fires. 

At  last  the  whites  resolved  that  this  was  unbearable,  and  in 
the  fall  of  1781  upwards  of  three  hundred  Delaware  warriors 
were  taken  to  Detroit  and  kept  prisoners  all  the  winter.  They 
had  hardly  been  released  early  in  the  spring,  when  a  series  of  out- 
rages began.  So  hard  had  been  the  winter  and  so  distant  were 
the  towns  of  the  hostile  Indians  that  the  settlers  were  convinced 
of  the  guilt  of  the  Moravians.  An  expedition  against  them  set 
out  in  March,  1872,  and  by  treachery  as  great  as  any  Indian's, 
succeeded  in  slaughtering  ninety-six  men,  women  and  children. 
The  success  of  this  force  led  to  the  formation  of  a  larger  one, 
which  was  first  to  destroy  the  Moravian  Indians,  and  then  pro- 
ceed against  their  near  neignbors,  the  more  warlike  and  hostile 
Wyandots. 


94 


THE  CRAWPORD  EXPEDITION. 


Tho  commandants  of  the  militia  of  Washington  and  Westmore 
land  Counties,  Pennsylvania,  made  every  effort  to  induce  the 
settlers  to  join  this  expedition,  and  nearly  five  hundred  men  as- 
sembled at  the  Old  Mingo  towns  towards  the  end  of  May,  each 
armed,  mounted  and  provided  with  rations  for  a  month.  Among 
the  voir'  ers  was  Col.  William  Crawfoid,  a  Virginian  who  had 
ser^^  ith  some  distinction  in  the  Revolution,  the  friend  of 
Wa&.iington  from  boyhood,  and  intimately  associated  with  hirr 
in  early  and  later  manhood.  Though  opposed  to  some  of  the  ob- 
jects of  the  campaign,  he  had  been  persuaded  to  accompany  it, 
and  his  son,  son-in-law  and  two  nephews  were  also  of  the  par  '^v. 
When  the  election  for  officers  took  place.  Col.  Crawford  wa^. 
made  the  commander  of  the  entire  force. 

Setting  out  from  the  rendezvous.  May  25th,  and  pursuing  the 
same  trail  followed  by  the  smaller  force  of  March,  the  troops 
reached  the  Moravian  towns  only  to  find  them  deserted.  At  the 
instance  of  the  more  vvarlike  Delawares,  their  peaceful  brethren 
had  moved  to  Scioto,  and  were  safe  from  at  least  one  enemy,  un- 
der the  protection  of  the  other. 

Thus  foiled,  the  troops  were  undecided  what  course  should  be 
taken.  A  council  of  war  was  called,  and  it  was  resolved  to  keep 
on  the  path  they  were  then  pursuing,  but  to  turn  back  the  next 
Jay  if  no  Indians  should  have  been  found.  Hardly  had  this  de- 
termination been  announced  by  the  officers,  when  a  message  was 
received  from  a  detachment  that  had  been  sent  forward  to  recon- 
noiter.  A  large  body  of  Indians  was  approaching  them  rapidly, 
and  was  now  but  three  miles  away.  For  the  first  time  the  whites 
realized  that  every  movement  had  been  watched  and  understood 
by  the  savages,  who  were  now  prepared  to  resent  this  invasion 
of  their  territory. 

The  news  was  received  with  joy  by  the  troops,  and  hastily 
they  prepared  for  battle.  Moving  rapidly  forward,  they  soon 
met  the  reconnoitering  party  coming  in,  and  it  was  but  a  littl 
while  longer  before  they  came  in  sight  of  the  enemy.  The  plaii 
that  stretched  before  them  was  a  natural  battle-field,  its  smooth 
and  grassy  surface  unbroken  by  hill  or  ravine,  almost  the  only 
shelter  a  small  grove  nearly  in  the  midst.  This  the  Indians  were 
trying  to  gain,  and  indeed  a  small  party  of  them  had  done  so, 
when  the  whites  came  up.  Knowirg  how  great  would  be  the  ad- 
vantage of  this  shelter,  the  whites  opened  a  heavy  fire  upon  the 
Indians  who  were  still  exposed;  and  although  those  who  had 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


96 


gained  the  woods  annoyed  them  very  much,  the  troops  succeed- 
ed in  their  purpose.  But  the  savages,  thus  protected,  were  too 
dangerous  an  enemy  to  leave  alone  ;  and  a  detachment  of  troops 
were  dismounted  and  ordered  to  dislodge  them.  Dashing  forward 
upon  the  woods,  there  was  a  short,  fierce  encounter;  then  the 
redskins,  seeing  the  determination  with  which  their  enemies 
fought,  wisely  retreated  to  the  main  body  of  Indians. 

The  fight  lasted  the  remainder  of  the  day,  and  was  hotly  con 
tested  by  both  sides  ;  but  no  special  instance  of  valor  has  been 
handed  down  to  us.  Night  fell,  and  the  two  armies  rested  on 
their  arms,  waiting  for  daylight  to  continue  the  battle.  Fearful 
of  being  surprised  by  a  night  attack,  both  camps  had  been  sur- 
rounded by  a  line  of  large  fires,  and  the  men  lay  some  distance 
within  this  outer  circle.  All  night  long,  reinforcements  poured 
into  the  Indian  camp  ;  and,  when  morning  came,  their  force, 
which  had  been  far  superior  to  the  whites  when  the  fight  began, 
had  been  more  than  doubled.  This  was  perceived  by  the  whites, 
and  in  a  council  of  w^ar  held  on  the  morning  after  the  fight  (June 
6th)  it  was  decided  to  retreat  to  the  settlements.  This  was  of 
course  impossible  in  open  day,  in  the  face  of  a  superior  force,  so 
they  determined  to  put  their  plan  into  operation  as  soon  as  nighl 
should  enable  them  to  do  so. 

The  bodies  of  the  dead  were  buried,  and  fires  kindled  ovei 
their  graves,  that  the  Indians  might  not  suspect  these  spots  as 
the  last  resting-places  of  their  enemies.  Litters  where  made  for 
the  wounded,  and  the  army  drawn  up  in  order  for  the  retreat. 
Hither  and  thither  the  Indians  had  been  seen  riding  over  the 
plain  during  the  day,  as  if  to  tempt  the  whites  from  their  camp. 
Not  until  the  line  of  march  was  formed  did  they  seem  to  have 
any  idea  of  what  was  being  done.  Hastily  they  decided  upon 
their  course,  and  began  to  block  the  passes.  When  the  troops 
were  ready  to  move,  only  one  path  was  available — that  leading 
to  Sandusky.  Along  this  route  they  marched  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible, the  savages  pursuing  in  hot  haste.  About  a  mile  from  the 
battle-field  the  whites  left  this  trail,  and  turning  suddenly  to  the 
left,  regained  that  which  they  had  followed  when  in  search  of 
the  Indians,  hoping  to  reach  Fort  Mcintosh.  Supposing  that  the 
main  body  would  be  hotly  pursued,  and  at  last  destroyed,  many 
small  parties  struck  off  in  different  directions,  hoping  to  reach 
their  homes  in  safety.  The  Indians  had  anticipated  this,  and 
leaving  the  main  body  to  itself,  pursued  the  detaohments.  With 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


the  single  exception  of  Capt.  Williamson's  company,  forty  men 
strong,  these  all  met  the  fate  which  they  strove  to  avoid  ;  and 
these  only  escaped  by  rejoining  the  main  force. 

They  had  not  gone  far  when  Col.  Crawford  missed  those  mem« 
bers  of  his  family  who  had  accompanied  the  expedition,  and,  in 
the  effort  to  find  them,  allowed  the  whole  army  to  pass  him. 
From  this  time  forward,  we  leave  the  main  body  to  escape  to 
Fort  Mcintosh  without  further  loss,  and  follow  the  fortunes  of 
the  commander  and  his  immediate  companions.  Failing  to  find 
the  young  men,  he,  in  company  with  Dr.  Knight  and  two  others, 
resolved  to  cut  across  the  country  lo  the  same  point  for  which 
the  others  were  aiming  ;  hoping  that  a  shorter  path  would  en- 
able them  to  reach  it  in  safetyo  Many, others  entertained  similar 
hopes,  and  they  met  two  small  parties  each  of  two  men.  One  of 
these,  Lieut.  Ashly,  had  been  so  severely  wounded  that  he  could 
not,  unassisted,  sit  his  horse  ;  and  his  friend,  Capt.  Biggs,  was  de- 
laying his  own  retreat  to  assist  him.  The  old  chroniclers  barely 
mention  this  fact,  without  enlarging  upon  the  generosity  and 
self-sacrifice;  perhaps  the  sequel  of  the  story  shows  better  than 
words  of  praise  how  noble  was  the  action  of  this  soldier  of  the 
border. 

With  horses  almost  exhausted  by  the  hard  service,  they  toiled 
onward  until  late  at  night,  when,  in  the  midst  of  a  driving  rain, 
they  halted  for  a  few  hour's  rest.  The  bark  which  they  stripped 
from  the  trees  formed  their  only  shelter,  nor  dared  they  kindle 
a  fire  to  cook  their  food  ;  but  they  were  not  exposed  to  the  fury 
of  the  storm,  and  the  short  rest  enabled  them  to  proceed  with 
new  energy  at  dawn.  Col.  Crawford  and  Dr.  Knight  formed  the 
advance,  about  a  hundred  yards  in  front,  and  on  foot,  as  their 
horses  were  quite  unfit  for  further  service ;  Capt.  Biggs  and  Lieut. 
Ashly  came  next,  and  in  the  rear  came  the  others,  now  number- 
ing but  two. 

They  had  gone  barely  two  miles,  when  from  the  brush  sprang 
a  party  of  Delawares,  hideous  in  war-paint.  Seizing  Col.  Craw- 
ford and  Dr.  Knight,  they  carried  their  prisoners  to  a  camp  near 
by,  whence  they  were  taken  to  the  old  Wyandot  town.  Before 
leaving  the  encampment,  however,  another  party  of  Indians 
brought  in  two  scalps,  which  the  captives  recognized  as  those  of 
.Capt.  Biggs  and  the  friend  whom  he  had  tried  to  save. 

Col.  Crawford  and  Dr.  Knight  were  p?  anted  black,  an  ominous 
sign  to  those  versed  in  Indian  customs  ;  and  preceded  by  nine 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


9V 


Other  j)risoners,  were  inarched  oif  to  the  new  town,  escorted  by 
Captain  Pipe  and  Wingenum,  two  of  the  principal  chiefs  of  the 
De\awares.  One  after  another  the  nine  were  tomahawked  and 
scalped,  their  mangled  bodies  left  bleeding  by  the  wayside,  that 
the  two  survivers  might  see  them.  They  were  in  momentary  ex- 
pectation of  sharing  this  fate  when  they  met  Simon  Girty  and 
several  Indians,  the  whole  party  being  mounted. 

We  turn  aside  a  moment  to  note  the  former  history  of  the 
"  white  savage/'  whose  earnest  but  useless  endeavor  to  save  an 
old  comrade-in-arms  we  have  already  described.  Simon  Girty  the 
elder,  a  wretch  notorious  for  his  drunkenness  and  brutality,  was 
killed  in  1756,  in  a  quarrel  with  a  pot-companion,  his  son  of  the 
same  name  being  then  fourteen.  The  same  year  his  wife  was 
killed  by  the  Senecas,  and  the  two  boys,  Simon  and  James,  car- 
ried off  into  captivity.  Given  up  by  this  tribe  in  accordance  with 
the  treaty  which  closed  the  war,iie  escaped  and  returned  to  the 
wild  life  of  his  adopted  people,  but  was  again  compelled  to  leave 
them.  During  Dunmore^s  War,  he  was  a  spy  and  scout  in  the 
service  of  the  colony,  he  and  Simon  Kenton,  then  called  Butler, 
being  constant  companions.  Afterward  acting  as  Indian  agent 
and  interpreter,  he  became  acquainted  with  Col.  Crawford  and 
his  family.  Aspiring  to  the  hand  of  Miss  Crawford,  his  suit  was 
rejected,  and  it  was  not  until  1788  that  he  found  a  wife  in  a  cap- 
tive taken  by  the  Shawnees  from  Detroit. 

When  the  Eevolution  began,  Girty  was  an  officer  of  militia, 
stationed  at  Fort  Pitt,  but  in  1778,  for  some  unknown  reason,  de- 
serted to  the  British;  tradition  tells  of  a  beating  from  a  superior 
when  the  scout  demanded  his  pay,  long  overdue,  during  Dun- 
morels  War  ;  and  of  a  junior  in  the  Continental  Army  being  pre- 
ferred for  promotion.  The  latter  looks  the  more  probable,  being 
nearer  the  time  ;  but  whatever  the  reason,  the  fact  remains  that 
he  joined  the  British,  then  passed  to  their  allies,  the  Indians.  We 
have  seen  him  leading  them  in  the  attack  upon  Bryant's  Station  ; 
we  shall  now  see  what  influence  he  possessed  over  their  evil  pas- 
sions. 

The  two  prisoners,  with  this  added  guard,  were  conducted  to 
Sandusky.  On  the  route,  Girty  avoided  any  private  talk  with 
Col.  Crawford,  but  when  they  had  arrived  at  their  destination 
the  officer  requested  an  interview.  He  was  conducted  to  the 
renegade's  cabin  by  a  guard  of  savages,  and  the  conference  began. 
Girty  assured  Col.  Crawford  in  the  warmest  terms  of  his  friend* 


98 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


ship,  lamenting  that  Captain  Pipe  and  other  leading  men  of  the 
tribe  should  be  so  greatly  enraged  at  the  commander  of  the 
troops,  but  adding  a  promise  to  save  him  if  possible.  The  cap- 
tive was  led  back  to  his  companion,  and  the  treacherous  white 
savage  sought  out  his  Indian  brethren,  only  to  paint  in  the 
blackest  colors  the  character  of  the  man  whom  he  had  promised 
to  save.    Thus  were  avenged  ^'the  pangs  of  misprized  love." 

Girty  might  have  saved  the  captives,  had  he  pled  for  them  as 
he  once  pled  for  Kenton ;  but  now  they  were,  at  his  instigation, 
doomed  to  death.  Stripped  naked,  severely  beaten  with  every 
weapon  that  warriors  or  squaws  could  lay  their  hands  on,  Col. 


THE  DEATH  TORTURES  OF  COL.  WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


Crawford  was  made  to  sit  down  near  a  post,  which  had  just  been 
set  in  the  ground.  His  hands  were  securely  bound  behind  his 
back,  and  he  was  tied  to  the  post  by  a  rope  just  long  enough  to 
allow  him  to  walk  twice  around  the  post,  when  he  must  unwind 
the  rope  by  retracing  his  steps.  ^Around  him  in  a  circle  which 
he  could  not  reach,  were  heaped  brush,  poles  and  every  sort  of 
inflammable  stuif.  Girty  sat  on  his  horse  a  short  distance  ofl*, 
watching  the  proceedings. 

Girty,''  called  the  victim  to  him,  ^'  is  it  possible  that  I  have 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITIONc 


9U 


been  spared  the  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife,  only  to  be  burn 
ed  alive 

**Yes,  Colonel," replied  the  fiend,  coolly;  "  you  mustbe  burned/^ 
I  will  endeavor  to  bear  it  patiently,''  returned  the  soldier." 
The  circle  of  brush  was  soon  in  a  blaze,  but  the  wretched  suf- 
ferer could  not  end  his  life  by  throwing  himself  into  the  flames. 
Terrible  as  such  a  death  is,  it  was  better  than  the  tortures  which 
now  awaited  him.  The  warriors,  filling  their  guns  with  loose 
powder,  fired  upon  him,  the  burning  powder  scorching  and 
searing  the  skin  off  his  whole  body;  then,  catching  up  the  burn- 
ing poles,  they  prodded  him  with  the  blazing  ends;  while  the 
squaws,  as  devilish  in  their  cruelty  as  their  lords  and  masters, 
cast  the  embers  and  coals  into  the  circle  beneath  his  feet.  Mean- 
while Captain  Pipe"  continued  to  address  them  in  the  Indian 
language,  unintelligible  to  the  victim  and  to  Dr.  Knight,  an  en. 
forced  spectator.  Yells  and  whoops  answered  him,  as  the  sav- 
ages redoubled  their  efforts. 

Maddened  by  the  torture,  yet  uttering  no  groan  or  word  of 
complaint,  the  wretched  victim  of  these  fiends  paced  ceaselessly 
about  the  stake  to  which  he  was  secured.  Only  once  he  paused, 
and  then  to  appeal  to  the  inhuman  wretch  of  his  own  people,  who 
sat  enjoying  the  horrible  spectacle.  He  had  then  endured  it  for 
full  three  hours. 

Girty,  Girty,  shoot  me  through  the  heart !  Do  not  refuse  me! 
Quick,  quick  !" 

Why,  Colonel,  don't  you  see  I  have  no  gun?"  answered  the 
monster,  as  with  a  loud  and  mocking  laugh  he  turned  away  for 
a  moment. 

Faint  and  exhausted  the  sufferer  commended  his  soul  to  God, 
and  lying  down  upon  his  face  prayed  for  a  speedy  release. 
Dashing  aside  the  coals  where  he  lay,  a  warrior  secured  his 
scalp  ;  a  squaw  then  heaped  the  coals  upon  his  back  and  head. 
Aroused  from  half  unconsciousness  by  the  new  pain,  he  got  up 
and  staggerd  onward  in  that  seemingly  endless  round.  The  war- 
rior who  had  scalped  him  held  the  bloody  trophy  on  high  for  the 
admiration  of  his  brethren,  then  dashed  it  in  the  face  of  Dr. 
Knight. 

We'll  keep  you  until  we  get  to  Shawneetown,"  said  Girty  to 
the  captive,    and  then  you  will  have  to  undergo  the  same  treat- 
ment as  the  colonel." 
Unheeding  the  prodding  of  the  burning  poles,  and  the  showers 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


of  coals  that  fell  upon  his  bare  skull,  the  victim  kept  his  walk 
for  half  an  hour;  then,  at  last,  nature  was  merciful,  and  ho  sank 
at  the  foot  of  the  stake.  Ho  had  borne  as  much  as  man  could 
bear,  and  they  heaped  the  coals  upon  his  senseless  form.  In 
a  little  while  this  most  fiendish  deed  ever  recorded  of  men 
was  complete,  and  the  body  of  the  brave  soldier  a  handful  of 
ashes. 

Shawneetown  was  about  forty  miles  from  the  scene  of  Col. 
Crawford's  torture,  and  Dr.*Knight,  securely  pinioned,  was  placed 
in  charge  of  a  single  young  warrior,  to  be  conveyed  thither.  His 
slight,  almost  feminine  build,  and  worn-out  condition,  led  them  to 
think  this  a  sufficient  escort ;  besides,  he  was  in  the  very  midst 
of  the  Indian  country,  and  under  no  circumstances  could  he  make 
good  his  escape.  The  first  day  the  two  traveled  about  twenty- 
five  miles,  the  warrior  expecting  to  reach  Shawneetown  about 
the  middle  of  the  next  afternoon.  It  may  well  be  believed  that 
the  captive  did  not  close  his  eyes  that  night,  so  anxiously  did  he 
watch  for  an  opportunity  to  escape  ;  but  the  guard  was  equally 
watcliful,  and  when  morning  came  he  was  still  a  prisoner.  The 
warrior  might  endure  hunger  and  cold  and  loss  of  sleep,  he 
would  not  have  groaned  if  exposed  to  the  same  tortures  so  re- 
cently inflicted  upon  the  white  man,  but  the  sting  of  the  swarms 
of  gnats  had  become  intolerable.  Kindling  a  fire  about  dawn, 
he  untied  his  prisoner  and  set  him  at  a  similar  task,  trusting 
that  the  smoke  would  drive  away  the  troublesome  insects. 
Obediently  taking  a  coal  between  two  sticks.  Dr.  Knight  started 
to  the  point  indicated  by  the  savage;  but  suddenly  turning, 
he  struck  the  Indian  with  all  his  force,  felling  him  to  the  earth. 

Instantly  the  doctor  seized  the  warrior's  rifle,  and  took  aim. 
Hardly  had  the  savage  struck  the  ground  when  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  b"t  seeing  that  his  late  prisoner  had  the  rifle,  ran  ofl*, 

making  night  hideous''  with  his  yells.  Fortunately  for  the  fugi- 
tive, the  white  man  in  his  nervous  haste  had  drawn  back  the 
cock  so  violently  as  to  break  the  mainspring,  thus  rendering  the 
gun  useless.  But  the  Indian  had  not  waited  to  see  the  condition 
of  the  rifle,  and  the  recent  captive  was  free  to  continue  his  jour- 
ney. A  toilsome  trip  it  was  for  the  man  so  weak  and  enfeebled  ; 
twenty-one  days  passed  before  he  reached  Port  Mcintosh,  and 
during  that  time^he  subsisted  on  such  food  as  could  be  obtained 
in  the  w^ilderness  without  a  gun — ^wild  gooseberries,  young  net- 
tles, a  raw  terrapin,  two  young  birds.  Meagre,  emaciated  and  al-  t 

1 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


101 


most  starved,  he  at  last  reached  his  destinatioD,  with  the  story  of 
the  dreadful  fate  of  the  commander. 

Of  the  five  hundred  men  who  set  out  on  this  expedition,  more 
than  a  hundred  perished.  Many  of  these  were  killed  outright; 
others  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  only  to  be  murdered  as 
they  failed  from  weakness  to  keep  up  with  their  captors,  or  to 
be  reserved  for  torture.  Of  those  captured,  there  were  but  two 
escaped  to  tell  the  tale.  Of  these  Dr.  Knight  was  one,  the  other 
being  John  Slover. 

When  but  eight  years  old,  he  had  been  carried  into  captivity 
by  the  Indians,  and  had  lived  with  them  for  twelve  years.  He 
had  by  this  means  become  acquainted  with  their  language,  so  that 
he  could  by  signs  communicate  with  any  of  them,  no  matter  of 
what  tribe.  For  the  red  men,  though  their  spoken  languages  dif- 
fer so  much  that  those  of  one  tribe  can  understand  nothing  said 
in  the  language  of  another,  can  communicate  anything  they  wish 
by  means  of  signs,  which  seem  to  be  common  to  all  tribes.  Be- 
sides their  language,  Slover  had  become  an  adept  in  woodcraft, 
and  had  thoroughly  learned  the  lay  of  the  land  in  that  section 
of  country.  In  consequence  of  this  knowledge,  he  had  been  se- 
lected as  the  principal  guide  to  the  expedition.  When  the  re- 
treat began  he  was  for  some  reason  delayed,  and  only  with  diffi- 
culty overtook  a  small  party.  Attempting  to  cross  a  morass^ 
their  horses  sank  so  deep  that  it  was  impossible  to  extricate 
them;  and  the  fugitives  thought  themselves  lucky  to  get  out, 
even  although  they  must  continue  their  journey  on  foot.  They 
haa  traveled  more  than  half  the  distance  from  the  battle-field  to 
Fort  Pitt,  having  nearly  reached  the  Tuscarawa,  when  they  were 
attacked  by  a  party  of  savages.  Of  the  five  white  men,  but  one 
escaped  to  Wheeling  ;  one  was  killed,  and  the  others,  of  whom 
Slover  was  one,  were  taken  prisoners. 

Taken  first  to  a  small  town  of  the  Mingoes  and  Shawnees,  the 
captives  were  severely  beaten,  and  then  conducted  to  a  larger 
town,  two  miles  away.  Here  they  were  condemned  to  run  the 
gauntlet,  their  final  fate  to  depend  upon  the  courage  and  endur- 
ance then  displayed.  One  of  them  was  severely  beaten,  then  kill- 
ed, and  his  body  hacked  to  pieces  and  put  up  on  poles  about  the 
town.  Of  the  fate  of  the  other  we  have  no  record,  but  when,  a 
few  days  later,  a  messenger  arrived  from  the  Governor  of  De- 
troit, Slover  was  the  only  prisoner  in  their  hapds.  The  message 
ran  :     Provisions  are  scarce,  and  when  you  send  in  prisoners  we 


102 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


have  them  to  feed,  and  still  some  of  them  are  getting  off  and  car* 
rying  tidings  of  our  affairs.  When  any  of  your  people  are  taken 
by  the  rebels,  they  show  no  mercy.  Why  then  should  you?  My 
children,  take  no  more  prisoners  of  any  sort,  men,  women  or 
children/' 

Such  was  the  message  sent  by  the  British  authorities  to  their 
Indian  allies  in  the  revolutionary  war,  now  practically  at  a  close, 
though  our  independence  had  not  yet  been  formally  acknowl- 
edged. Such  counsel  was  only  too  likely  to  be  followed,  ac- 
cording as  it  did  with  the  wishes  of  the  savages.  As  we  have  said, 
Slover  was  the  only  captive  remaining  in  their  hands;  and  a 
council  was  at  once  held  to  consider  the  manner  of  his  death. 

Horrible  as  had  been  the  death  scene  of  Crawford,  it  had  not 
sickened  their  hearts  or  sated  their  thirst  for  torture  ;  but  like 
the  tiger's  first  taste  of  blood,  had  whetted  their  appetite  for  more 
The  one  remaining  captive  was  sentenced  to  undergo  the  same 
torments.  But  they  were  not  selfish;  five  miles  away  was  an- 
other village,  and  with  the  inhabitants  of  this  they  were  willing 
to  share  their  pleasure.  A  rope  was  tied  about  Slover's  neck, 
and  escorted  by  about  forty  warriors,  he  was  led  to  this  other 
town.  In  vain,  knowing  the  fate  that  awaited  him,  and  hoping 
ito  avoid  it  by  provoking  their  anger  beyond  control,  did  he 
court  an  easier  death.  If  he  hung  back,  they  drew  the  rope  no 
tighter  ;  they  waited  for  him  to  come  on,  beating  him  meanwhile 
with  the  pipe  end  of  their  tomahawks;  if  he  sank  by  the  way- 
side, seemingly  exhausted,  they  were  equally  patient,  determ- 
ined not  to  be  cheated  out  of  the  pleasure  of  tormenting  him. 

Arrived  at  the  town,  preparations  went  rapidly  forward.  The 
stake  was  driven  into  the  ground,  and  willing  hands  arranged 
the  wood  in  a  circle  about  it.  The  captive,  beaten  almost  to  a 
jelly  by  these  stranger  warriors  while  his  escort  had  been  at- 
tending to  these  necessary  preparations,  was  bound  to  the  stake, 
and  the  fire  was  kindled.  The  morning  had  dawned  bright  and 
clear  as  ever  was  June  day,  but  as  the  day  wore  on  the  weather 
had  become  more  uncertain.  Anxiously  the  Indians  had  watch- 
ed the  gathering  clouds,  fearful  of  rain.  Hardly  had  their  pris- 
oner been  bound  to  the  stake  when  the  first  big  drops  began  to 
fall ;  and  the  fire  had  not  been  well  started  when  the  rain  came 
down  in  torrents.  Reprieved  by  Heaven,  the  unlucky  prison- 
er was  released  from  the  stake,  only  to  be  securely  bound  and 
veil  guarded  during  the  night. 


104 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


Though  they  could  not  yet  burn,  they  could  again  beat  him, 
and  their  resentment  at  the  weather  found  vent  in  a  shower  of 
$iturdy  blows.  At  last  even  they  grew  tired,  and  he  was  re- 
manded to  the  block-house,  the  rope  about  his  neck  being  se- 
cured to  one  of  the  beams.  Condemned  to  suifer  the  most  hor- 
rible death  the  next  day,  with  no  hope  of  deliverance  from  the 
hands  of  his  tormenters — for  even  had  the  circumstances  been 
known,  what  arm  was  strong  enough  to  rescue  him? — the  un- 
happy captive  could  not  have  closed  his  eyes  in  sleep.  But  even 
if  he  could  thus  have  forgotten  in  horrible  dreams  the  still  more 
horrible  reality,  the  three  warriors  who  kept  guard  would  not 
have  permitted  it.  In  their  broken  English  and  their  own 
tongue  they  enlarged  upon  the  pleasure  they  expected,  and  the 
agony  he  must  suffer.  The  death  of  Crawford  was  described 
with  gusto,  and  a  repetition  of  every  pang  threatened.  More 
than  this,  they  exerted  their  ingenuity  and  imagination  to  find 
others,  until  eating  fire  and  drinking  boiling  water  became  fa- 
miliar images  to  his  mind,  tortured  as  his  body  was  to  be. 

During  the  night,  there  arrived  an  Indian  whose  tidings  were 
not  likely  to  make  them  more  lenient  to  Slover.  It  was  the 
same  to  whom  the  guardianship  of  Dr.  Knight  had  been  en- 
trusted, and  this  was  the  town  to  which  his  prisoner  was  to  have 
been  conducted. 

"Long-knife  big — big  as  a  chief  on  the  shoulders  of  a  squaw; 
strong  as  two  warriors.  His  fist  big  as  my  head,  and  hard  as 
the  stones  the  water  miakes  smooth.  Longknife  did  this  with 
his  hand — he  scratch  deep/' 

The  warrior  pointed  to  a  gash  on  the  side  of  his  head,  full 
four  inches  long  and  penetrating  to  the  bone,  which  Dr.  Knight 
had  made  with  the  stick  when  he  knocked  him  down.  The 
red  men  gazed  at  the  wound  in  solemn  wonder  that  a  Long- 
knife  should  be  so  large  and  strong.  Perhaps  he  had  looked 
very  large  to  the  frightened  savage;  fear  magnifies  danger;  but 
^they  were  not  inclined  to  distrust  their  brother's  word. 

The  news  rapidly  spread  over  the  town,  losing  nothing  on  its 
rounds,  and  soon  reached  the  blockhouse.  By  that  time  the 
giant  Longknife  was  about  fifteen  feet  high,  with  a  fist  that 
weighed  a  ton,  and  finger-nails  of  the  best  quality  of  razor 
steel. 

glover  listened  to  the  account,  and  being  assured  that  the 
Longknife  was  called  Dr.  Knight,  lost  no  time  in  undeceiving 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


105 


his  guards  as  to  the  courage  displayed  by  the  wounded  war- 
rior. 

I  know  him/^  he  said  ;  "  he  is  a  little  man,  no  bigger  than  a 
boy,  no  stronger  than  an  old  squaw  that  is  left  to  die  because 
she  is  no  good  to  work  any  more.  The  warrior  of  the  Shaw- 
nees  is  a  coward  to  run  away  from  such  a  man,  and  a  forked- 
tongued  snake  to  lie  about  him.'^ 

'  The  Indians  were  as  ready  to  believe  this  as  they  had  been  to 
take  in  the  story  of  the  giant,  and  that  poor  wounded  Shaw- 
nee had  a  hard  road  to  travel  for  some  time,  so  unmercifully  was 
he  jeered  and  ridiculed. 

Between  the  pleasure  of  keeping  their  captive  fully  alive  to 
the  tortures  which  he  was  soon  to  undergo,  and  the  excitement 
of  discussing  this  piece  of  news,  Slover's  guards  had  not  the 
least  difficulty  in  keeping  awake.  For  hours  he  waited  for  an 
opportunity,  but  they  were  ever  watchful.  At  last,  in  that  dark- 
est hour  just  before  dawn,  weariness  overpowered  them,  and 
they  fell  asleep.  This  was  the  chance  for  which  he  had  longed  ; 
but  in  order  to  take  advantage  of  it  he  must  be  free.  With 
comparatively  little  trouble  he  loosed  his  hands,  but  the  rope 
about  his  neck  seemed  to  defy  every  effort.  Made  of  undressed 
buffalo  hide,  it  was  almost  as  hard  to  manage  as  india-rubber, 
find  at  last  he  resorted  to  another  way  of  removing  it — by  gnaw- 
ing it  in  twol 

While  thus  engaged,  one  of  the  warriors  awoke,  and  seating 
himself  near  the  captive  began  to  smoke.  Slover  carefully  kept 
his  hands  in  much  the  same  position  as  they  had  been  when 
bound,  and  lay  perfectly  still — hope  seemed  gone.  The  warrior 
smoked  on,  and  Slover  felt  certain  that  he  would  not  go  to  sleep 
again,  unless,  indeed,  the  others  should  awake.  In  this,  how- 
ever, he  was  mistaken;  for,  much  to  his  joy,  he  saw  the  war- 
rior lay  aside  the  pipe,  lie  down,  and  compose  himself  to  slum- 
ber once  again.  As  soon  as  he  was  convinced  that  he  was  not 
watched,  Slover  renewed  his  efforts;  but  having  found  that  he 
made  no  progress  in  his  attempt  to  gnaw  the  hide,  again  tried 
to  slip  it  over  his  head.  In  this  at  last  he  was  successful,  and 
soon  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  his  sleeping  guards  free  from  his 
bonds. 

It  may  well  be  believed  that  he  lost  no  time  in  creeping  soft- 
ly from  the  house;  trained  by  the  savages  themselves,  he  could 
move  so  stealthily  that  not  even  their  light  slumber  was  dis- 


106 


THE  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


turbed.  Making  his  way  from  the  house,  he  leaped  a  fence  and 
gained  a  corn-field,  where  the  young  stalks  would  be  a  sufficient 
shelter  from  observation  in  the  dim,  uncertain  light  of  dawn. 

A  squaw,  with  several  children,  lay  sleeping  at  the  root  of  a 
tree  directly  in  his  path.  They  were  not  in  themselves  danger- 
ous, but  they  might  give  the  alarm  to  others;  and  he  turned 
aside,  making  a  considerable  detour  to  the  point  where  he  knew 
the  horses  must  have  been  stationed.  But  another  enemy,  sleep- 
ing like  the  others,  frightened  him  from  the  animals,  and  it  was 
only  by  chance  that  he  came  upon  a  few,  left  to  pasture  in  a  giade 
of  the  forest.  One  of  these  he  caught,  and  was  fortunate  enough 
to  secure  a  piece  of  an  old  rug  as  well.  Mounted  on  this  ani- 
mal, with  this  as  his  only  covering,  without  weapons  either  for 
protection  or  for  killing  game,  he  made  his  way  to  Wheeling, 
his  knowledge  of  woodcraft  enabling  him  to  reach  the  settle- 
ments much  sooner  than  a  man  less  perfectly  trained. 

Such  was  the  famous  and  ill-fated  Crawford  Expedition. 
Looking  at  it  with  all  the  light  which  a  century  can  throw  up- 
on the  motives  and  actions  of  men  concerned,  we  see  clearly 
how  blameless  were  the  Moravian  Indians,  how  patiently  they 
bore  undeserved  sufferings,  inflicted  by  the  races  contending  for 
mastery.  But  to  the  men  of  that  day,  these  pretended  converts 
were  only  worse  enemies  because  secret;  their  towns  were  halt- 
tng-places  for  the  hostile  tribes,  their  barns  were  stores  for 
war  parties,  the  ammunition  they  pretended  to  use  for  hunting 
or  in  their  own  defense,  found  its  way  into  muskets  aimed  at 
the  whites;  nay,  the  young  men  of  the  Moravian  towns,  with 
double-dyed  treachery,  became  spies  upon  the  movements  of  the 
whites,  and  then  led  war  parties  against  the  more  helpless  set- 
tlers. Thus  the  Crawford  Expedition  was  directed  against  th^ 
most  dangerous  enemy  ;  if  they  erred  in  judging  the  Moravians 
too  hastily,  they  met  with  a  terrible  punishment  at  the  hands  of 
the  warlike  Delawares  and  their  yet  more  savage  allies. 


/ 


CHAPTER  V. 

SOME  H^EOINES  OF  THE  BOEDEE. 

THE  men  of  the  border  fought  bravely  for  their  homes  and 
their  families.  In  general  the  women  were  content  to 
perform  the  household  duties,  which  then  included  spinning 
and  weaving ;  but  tl  dy  were  not  unhandy  with  the  rifle,  and 
many  a  fair  front  ierv^^aiden  has  brought  down  a  deer.  That  was 
before  the  days  of  woman's  rights,  and  the  weaker  vessels  were 
usually  content  to  be  defended;  but  sometimes  the  strong  arm 
of  the  protector  was  still  in  death;  sometimes  he  had  journey- 
ed to  the  forts  for  necessary  supplies  of  salt  and  ammunition; 
then,  if  the  dusky  foe  burst  upon  the  unprotected  household, 
^he  hardy  frontier  housewife  became  a  heroine,  fearless  in  the 
defence  of  her  helpless  children. 

MBS.  DUSTIN's  captivity. 

The  earliest  settlers  were  comparatively  safe,  keeping,  as  they 
generally  did,  near  the  villages  of  fortified  houses.  Occasion- 
ally, however,  the  Indians,  instigated  or  led  by  the  French,  in 
the  days  before  the  Eevolution,  would  attack  the  towns  and 
massacre  or  carry  into  captivity  the  inhabitants.  Dover  and 
Schenectady  had  thus  sufi'ered,  when  in  March,  1697,  the  sav- 
ages made  a  descent  upon  Haverhill,  Massachusetts. 

"  Then  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro," — 
but  forty  persons  fell  victims.  A  settler,  named  Dustin,  hur- 
ried from  the  field  where  he  was  at  work  to  save,  if  he  could, 
his  young  and  helpless  family.  Bidding  his  seven  children  run 
to  the  neighboring  garrison,  he  seized  his  gun,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  rode  after  them,  intending  to  save  one,  even  if  the 
others  were  left  to  perish.  His  wife  and  infant,  a  week  old, 
must  be  left  in  the  house;  them  he  could  not  save.  When  he 
came  up  with  the  fleeing  children,  he  found  that  he  could  not 
carry  out  his  hastily  formed  plan ;  he  could  not  choose  which 


108 


SOME  H15R0INES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


was  the  dearest.  Determining  to  save  all,  or  perish  with  thenij 
he  happily  managed  to  keep  the  Indians  at  bay  until  the  whole 
party  had  reached  the  shelter  of  the  block-house.  He  had  sav- 
ed his  children,  but  their  mother  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy.  Dragged  from  her  bed,  she  clung  to  her  helpless 
babe  with  despairing  energy,  only  to  have  it  torn  from  her 
arms  and  dashed  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  A  tomahawk 
brandished  above  her  head  warned  her  not  to  give  way  to  her 
grief,  and  she,  with  her  nurse,  was  compelled  to  accompany 
them  on  their  march.    Other  prisoners  were  taken,  and  the  ma- 


SLAUGHTERING  HER  CAPTORS. 


rauders  set  out  on  their  return.  One  by  one  the  captives,  grow- 
ing weak,  lagged  behind;  and  the  savages,  resolving  that  none 
should  escape,  tomahawked  them.  When  they  had  journeyed  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles,  Mrs.  Dustin  and  her  nurse  weie  the 
only  white  persons  with  them,  excepting  a  boy  who  had  been 
captured  a  number  of  years  before,  and  whom  the  savages  re- 
garded as  one  of  their  number.  But,  trusted  as  he  was,  this 
boy  was  only  waiting  for  a  chance  to  escape.  Having  sounded 
him  and  found  this  to  be  the  case,  Mrs.  Dustin  directed  him  to 
find  out  where  the  blow  must  be  struck  with  a  tomanawk  to  be 
frtal.    The  question  was  asked  and  the  part  of  the  head  desig-. 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


109 


nated.  At  the  first  opportunity  the  boy  conveyed  this  inform- 
ation to  her  tinsnspected  by  the  Indians. 

They  were  now  so  far  away  from  the  settlements  that  the  sav- 
ages considered  themselves  safe;  pursuit  was  distanced;  the 
women  could  not  possibly  escape ;  therefore  no  watch  was  kept 
at  night.  As  the  warriors  slept  around  the  camp-fire,  their 
arms  beside  them,  ready  for  instant  use,  the  woman,  whom  they 
least  dreaded  on  account  of  her  frail  condition,  arose  from  among 
them,  and  silently  stealing  along  gathered  three  tomahawks  from 
the  sides  of  as  many  savages.  One  of  these  she  handed  to  the  nurse, 
and  one  to  the  white  boy.  And  then  began  the  carnival  of  re- 
venge. Deep  sank  each  blade  into  an  Indian's  skull,  and  the 
three  savages  died  without  a  groan.  Again  and  again  the  hatch- 
ets were  dyed  in  blood,  until  ten  red  men  lay  dead  where  they 
had  slept.  Only  one  squaw,  wounded,  escaped  into  the  forest, 
to  tell  the  gruesome  tale  of  a     Yenghese'^  woman's  revenge. 

The  story  of  her  exploit  would  hardly  be  believed,  if  she 
reached  the  settlements  to  tell  it;  and,  in  order  to  be  able  to 
prove  it,  Mrs.  Dustin  took  the  scalps  of  her  ten  victims,  and 
bore  the  ghastly  trophies  back  to  Haverhill.  Even  when  the 
tale  was  thus  substantiated,  the  hardy  frontiersmen  could  hardly 
realize  that  a  delicate  woman  could  have  withstood  the  hard- 
ships of  the  march  and  escaped  by  such  a  deed  of  daring. 

MISS   BETSY  ZANE. 

Mrs.  Dustin  is  perhaps  the  first  of  whom  we  have  such  recora  ; 
but  by  no  means  the  last.  Passing  over  a  multitude  of  less  fam- 
ous names,  in  a  space  of  eighty-five  years,  we  come  to  that  very 
Seige  of  Port  Henry,  near  Wheeling,  of  which  mention  was  made 
in  a  previous  chapter.  Only  eighteen  men  remained  in  the  fort, 
of  the  forty-two  settlers  who  had  fled  thither  at  the  earliest 
alarm.  Not  only  were  they  nearly  worn  out  by  the  constant 
watch  that  must  be  kept  against  their  four  hundred  dusky  foes, 
but  a  new  danger  beset  them — their  powder  was  running  short. 

There  is  a  keg  of  powder  in  my  house,''  said  Col.  Zane,  the 
commander,"  but  it  would  be  dangerous  to  go  after  it." 

There  stood  the  house  in  plain  view,  barely  sixty  yards  from 
the  gate  of  the  fort.  Yet  every  inch  was  within  rifle-shot  of  the 
Indians  sheltered  behind  the  trees  on  all  sides.  Hardly  had  the 
words  been  uttered,  however,  when  several  young  men  volun- 
teered for  the  errand,  honorable  because  it  was  so  dangerous. 


110 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


Only  one  can  go/^  decided  the  commander;  "there  is  a 
great  risk,  and  there  are  so  few  of  us  that  we  must  husband  our 
strength.    We  cannot  afford  to  lose  more  than  one  man." 

^'  We  cannot  afford  to  lose  one  man/'  spoke  a  clear  voice  at 
his  elbow. 

The  frontiersman  turned  to  look  at  the  speaker,  a  young  girl 
beautiful,  graceful,  the  stamp  of  culture  and  refinement  upon  her 
face  and  mein,  the  light  of  courage  and  self-sacrifice  shining 
from  her  eye.  It  was  Elizabeth  Zane,  the  ColoneFs  sister,  just 
come  from  a  fashionable  boarding-school  of  Philadelphia,  to 
visit  her  brother's  family. 

Her  words  were  but  too  true;  none  of  the  men  there  cluster- 
ed would  have  uttered  them;  but  once  spoken  no  one  could 
gainsay  them.    So  they  stood  silent,  and  she  went  on  : 

^^A  woman  adds  no  strength  to  the  garrison ;  let  me  go." 

"  You  exclaimed  the  brother,  half  in  astonishment,  half  in 
derision. 

*^Yes,  I.  I  know  just  where  the  powder  is,  so  that  it  would 
take  me  less  time  than  any  one  else ;  and,  as  I  said  before,  you 
cannot  spare  one  man  to  run  such  a  risk." 

"  The  risk  will  be  as  great  to  you  as  to  a  man,"  said  the 
Colonel,  doubtfully,  half  convinced  by  her  earnestness. 

Bah  !  the  Indians  wouldn't  think  a  white  woman  worth  a 
charge  of  powder  and  leAd.  Now  if  it  were  within  tomahawk- 
ing distance,  it  might  be  different.  But  even  then  the  garrison 
would  be  as  strong  as  before." 

Much  more  she  said  to  the  same  purpose;  and  necessity  ar- 
gued even  more  strongly.  Reluctantly  Col.  Zane  gave  his  con- 
sent, the  gates  of  the  fort  were  opened,  and  the  young  lady 
darted  out  on  her  dangerous  mission.  She  had  read  the  opin- 
ions of  the  Indians  aright  when  she  said  that  they  would  not 
waste  ammunition  on  a  white  woman,  for  not  a  shot  was  fired  as 
she  ran  from  the  fort  to  the  house.  But  when  she  issued  from 
the  building  with  the  keg  of  powder  in  her  arms,  then  the  sav- 
ages saw  that  she  was  not  a  mere  decoy  dispatched  to  draw 
tiiem  from  their  shelter.  The  whole  story  was  plain  to  them; 
if  ammunition  was  running  short  among  the  white  men,  before 
long  the  fort  would  be  theirs,  and  men,  women  and  children  at 
tlieir  mercy;  the  powder  must  not  be  carried  to  the  whites  be- 
fore their  very  eyes.  Volley  after  volley  came  from  the  am- 
bushed Indians  as  the  girl  sped  onward.    Like  swarms  of  bees 


SOME  HEROINES  OE  THE  BORDER. 


Ill 


the  bullets  whistled  around  her,  but  it  seemed  as  though  she 
bore  a  charmed  life.  Without  a  scratch  she  reached  the  fort 
with  her  precious  burden,  and  the  gates  closed  behind  her. 

Miss  Zane  may  be  called  a  typical  frontier  heroine,  for  her  ex- 
ploit was  often  rivaled  under  similar  circumstances.  Indeed,  at 
the  time  it  was  thought  no  great  thing  to  do,  as  there  were  many 
others  who  would  readily  have  done  it,  says  an  aged  woman 
present  at  the  siege.  What  a  tribute  to  the  courage  of  the 
border  women,  that  this  was  thought  no  great  thing  I 

MRS.  SCRAGGS  AND  HER  CHILDREN. 

Along  about  this  time,  there  lived  in  what  is  now  Bourbon 
County,  Kentucky,  a  widow  bearing  the  homely  name  of  Scraggs. 
Her  log  cabin,  situated  far  away  from  any  other  clearing,  consisted 
of  two  rooms,  which,  however,  did  not  communicate  with  each 
other.  In  one  room  slept  Mrs.  Scraggs,  a  widowed  daughter  and 
her  infant,  and  two  grown  sons  of  the  elder  woman;  in  the  other 
slept  her  three  youngest  children,  ranging  in  age,  at  the  date  of 
our  story,  from  about  twelve  to  twenty  years. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  of  an  April  night  in  1787.  One  of  the 
daughters  was  busy  at  the  loom  which  supplied  the  family  with 
wearing  apparel,  and  one  of  the  sons,  alarmed  by  some  unusual 
indications,  was  on  the  alert;  but  the  rest  of  the  family  were 
wrapped  in  slumber.  From  the  woods  came  the  questioning  cry 
of  the  owls,  more  than  usually  frequent;  from  the  pound  neax' 
the  house  came  the  noise  of  horses  snorting  and  stamping,  as  if  lit 
terror.  What  the  reason  was,  the  youth  could  not  guess;  but 
fearing  ridicule,  would  not  mention  his  alarm  or  its  causes. 

At  last  his  listening  ear  caught  the  sound  of  footsteps  near  the 
house,  and  a  moment  afterward  there  was  a  loud  knock  at  the 
door,  while  the  newcomer  asked,  in  good  English : 
Who  keeps  house 

Thinking  it  some  benighted  settler,  who  had  lost  his  way  in 
the  trackless  wilderness  around,  young  Scraggs  sprang  to  unbar 
the  door.  But  the  knock  had  awakened  the  mother,  who  now 
jumped  out  of  bed. 

Don't,  don't  let  them  in,''  she  whispered,  catching  her  son's 
arm  just  as  he  placed  his  hand  on  the  rude  wooden  bolt;  "they 
are  Indians.    I  know  it  by  the  voice." 

She  had  lived  too  long  upon  the  frontier  to  be  deceived,  and 
her  son  readily  yielded.    The  others  were  awakened,  and  the 


?12 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


two  youths  prepared  to  defend  themselves  and  the  women.  Find- 
ing that  the  whites  in  this  cabin  were  aware  of  their  true  char- 
acter, and  warned  by  a  shot  from  a  loop-hole  that  persistency 
would  be  dangerous,  the  savages  betook  themselves  to  the  other 
cabin,  where  the  three  girls  were  alone.  With  stout  rails  from 
the  neighboring  fences  they  battered  the  door  down,  and  the 
trembling  maidens  were  at  their  mercy. 

The  eldest,  seated  at  the  loom,  grasped  the  knife  which  she 
had  been  using,  and  retreated  into  the  corner.  As  a  burly  In- 
dian sprang  forward  she  raised  the  blade  ;  and  when  he  would 
have  seized  her,  she  drove  it  to- his  heart.  A  second  warrior, un- 
willing to  take  the  same  risk,  or  desirous  of  avenging  his  com- 
rade,  cleft  her  skull  with  one  blow  of  his  tomahawk. 

The  second  sister,  aroused  from  a  sound  sleep  by  the  battering 
at  the  door,  was  less  fortunate,  having  no  weapon  with  which  to 
defend  herself;  and  she  was  condemned  to  suffer  captivity,  a  fate 
which  was  a  thousand  times  worse  than  deatho  The  youngest  hiv  ^ 
slipped  past  the  savages  out  into  the  yard,  and  might  have 
escaped  had  she  possessed  sufficient  self-control  to  steal  away 
quietly.  Instead  of  that,  she  ran  about,  crying  that  her  sisters 
had  been  killed. 

What  were  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  those  four  who  were 
sheltered  by  the  other  cabin  !  Through  the  rude  wall,  they  could 
hear  the  screams  of  the  girls  ;  the  wild  whoops  and  threatening 
voices  of  the  savages ;  the  fall  of  the  eldest,  as  she  sank  beneath 
the  fatal  blow;  and  the  lamentations  of  the  youngest.  Mad  with 
grief  and  hate,  the  two  brothers  grasped  their  rifles  yet  more 
firmly,  and  prepared  to  rescue  their  little  sister. 

What  are  you  about  to  do?"  demanded  the  mother,  sternly  ; 
you  can  not  save  her.    Leave  her  to  her  fate.    A_  sally  would 
not  help  her,  and  would  be  the  destruction  of  all  the  rest.'' 

What  mustiiave  been  the  mother's  agony  when  she  thus  sacri- 
ficed one  child  for  the  sake  of  the  others!  The  young  men  re- 
luctantly turned  from  the  door,  which  one  had  already  half  un- 
barred, and  it  was  again  secured.  Scarcely  had  this  been  done, 
when  they  heard  a  loud  scream  from  the  child,  then  one  or  two 
moans;  and  then  her  voice  was  stilled  forever.  The  mother's 
face  grew  whiter  yet,  the  brothers  set  their  teeth  together,  tho 
one  remaining  daughter  clasped  her  baby  closer,  and  all  awaited 
the  next  result  of  the  attack. 

It  was  not  long  before  it  came.  The  savages  had  kindled  a  fire 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER.  llo 

close  to  the  log  wall  which  divided  the  two  cabins,  and  the  dry 
wood  burned  like  tinder.  Flames  and  smoke  came  bursting  in- 
to the  apartment  still  held  by  the  whites,  who  saw  that  they 
must  either  leave  the  house  or  suffer  the  most  horrible  of  all 
modes  of  death.  Hastily  deciding  upon  a  plan,  the  widow  di- 
rected her  daughter  and  ^^ounger  son  to  make  for  a  certain  part  of 
the  fence,  while  she,  with  the  elder  son,  ran  in  a  different  direc- 
tion. The  two  lit  .e  parties  were  grouped  in  readiness,  the  door 
was  suddenly  thrown  open,  and  they  darted  forth. 

The  blazing  logs  shed  a  fearful  radiance  about  on  the  bodies 
of  the  two  murdered  girls,  on  the  poor  bound  and  trembling  cap- 
tive, on  the  demoniac  rejoicings  of  the  victorious  savages,  on  the 
flight  of  the  fugitives.  Taken  aback  by  the  sudden  issue  from 
the  house,  the  Indians  did  not  fire  until  the  whites  had  reached 
the  fence;  and  as  she  was  crossing  the  stile,  the  heroic  mother 
fell  dead.  The  son,  unhurt  by  the  balls  that  whistled  around  him, 
sprang  away  into  the  woods,  bent  not  so  much  on  escape  as  on 
finding  an  instrument  of  vengeance. 

With  the  true  savage  desire  to  "  count  coup'^  upon  their  en- 
emies, the  Indians  rushed  with  uplifted  tomahawks  upon  th<3 
second  party.  The  young  man,  hardly  more  than  a  boy,  could 
only  sell  his  life  dearly.  Bidding  his  sister  make  haste  to  tho 
woods  with  her  child,  he  fired  upon  the  advancing  enemy,  as  rap 
idly  as  he  could  load  and  reload.  As  they  came  too  close  for  this, 
he  clubbed  his  rifle  and  with  the  strength  of  despair  dealt  deadly 
blows  to  right  and  left.  The  warriors  flinched  from  the  combat, 
close  as  it  waSj  and  retreating  a  pace  or  two,  one  threw  his  tom- 
ahawk at  the  boy.  Wounded  and  bleeding  he  still  fought  on,  un- 
til, struck  by  a  dozen  missiles,  he  fell.  His  noble  purpose  had 
been  accomplished,  for  his  sister  and  her  child  escaped  to  a 
neighbor's  cabin. 

The  elder  son  had  also  made  his  way  to  a  place  of  safety,  but 
for  himself  he  cared  little.  Before  d^^ylight  he  had  succeeded  in  as- 
sembling thirty  men,  and  under  the  leadership  of  a  Col.  Edwards, 
the  avengers  began  the  pursuit.  Warned  by  the  baying  of  a 
bloodhound  that  the  whites  used  in  tracking  them,  the  Indians 
dispatched  with  their  tomahawks  their  girl  captive,  and  left  her 
dying  in  the  path  of  the  pursuers.  If  anything  e'se  had  been 
needed  to  excite  their  fury  against  the  dusky  foe,  they  would 
have  found  it  in  the  girFs  bleeding  form,  as  she  feebly  tried  to 
guide  them  on  the  trail  of  her  murderers. 
19 


114 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


In  less  than  half  an  hour,  they  came  in  sight  of  the  savages, 
and  prepared  for  an  immediate  attack.  Charging  upon  the  en- 
emy  they  learned  that  two  devoted  warriors  had  sacrificed  them- 
selves for  their  comrades,  and  that  while  these  kept  the  whites 
engaged,  the  main  body  had  escaped. 

Such  was  the  fate  of  the  Widow  Scraggs  and  four  of  her  child- 
ren. We  turn  now  to  a  tale  less  tragic,  but  no  whit  less  thrilling. 

Miss  WASHBURNE. 

Among  the  men  who  fought  the  Indian  marauders  of  the  Ohio 
Valley,  the  McLellan  brothers  were  not  the  least  noted.  One  of 
them,  Eobert,  figures  on  the  pages  of  Washington  Irving's  As- 
toria, and  is  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  following  story. 

In  the  fall  of  1790,  an  Indian  outbreak  was  anticipated,  and 
McLellan  and  White,  scouts  attached  to  Wayne^s  command,  had, 
among  others,  been  sent  out  to  gather  news  of  the  enemy's  move- 
ments. Supplied  with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  cooked  food  to  last 
them  for  many  days,  they  stationed  themselves  upon  the  sum- 
mit of  Mt.  Pleasant,  overlooking  the  Hocking  Eiver.  Their 
post  was  accessible  only  by  a  narrow  wooded  ridge;  true,  but 
twelve  feet  intervened  between  the  height  where  they  were  and 
that  just  opposite,  but  that  narrow  gulf  was  two  hundred  feet 
deep,  and  one  who  missed  his  footing  in  attemping  the  leap^ 
would  be  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  belowo 

An  Indian  council  of  war  was  in  progress  on  the  plain  beneath, 
and  from  their  lofty  perch  the  two  scouts  watched  the  rehearsal 
of  bloody  deeds  already  done,  and  preparations  for  others  yet  to 
be  committed.  Anxious  to  make  their  report  as  complete  as  pos- 
sible, the  scouts  resolved  to  linger  until  the  lastpossible  moment. 

Keeping  a  sharp  outlook  upon  the  avenues  of  approach,  they 
passed  several  days  in  safety,  concealing  themselves  in  caves  or 
thickets  whenever  any  Indians  ascended  the  slopes.  But  now  a 
new  danger  beset  them.  Hitherto  they  had  drunk  the  water 
from  the  rain-filled  basins  on  the  hill-tops,  but  that  supply  had 
given  out,  and  they  must  descend  to  the  spring  on  the  hillside. 
Once  the  trip  was  made  in  safety  by  McLellan,  and  then  it  be- 
came White's  turn.  Descending  cautiously,  he  reached  the  spring 
without  being  detected,  and  procured  the  desired  supply.  As  he 
disposed  of  the  canteens,  in  order  to  make  the  ascent  unincum- 
bered, he  heard  a  slight  noise ;  and  a  moment  afterward  two 
squaws  came  suddenly  into  view.    No  sooner  had  the  elder  wo- 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


115 


man  caught  sight  of  the  scout  than  she  gave  the  alarm  whoop  of 
the  Indians. 

Dropping  his  canteens,  White  sprang  upon  the  women  and 
dragged  them  both  into  the  water,  endeavoring  to  drown  them. 

Don't,  don't/^  gasped  the  younger  as  she  resisted  his  eiforts; 
"  I  am  a  white  woman — don't.'' 

Instantly  he  released  her,  and  devoted  all  his  attention  to  her 
companion.  Possessed  of  muscles  like  steel,  hardened  and 
toughened  by  constant  exercise,  he  was  easily  able  to  manage 
her;  and  in  a  little  while  her  body  floated  down  the  stream. 

For  God's  sake,  let  me  go  with  you  to  the  settlements," 
pleaded  the  girl,  who  had  been  a  passive  observer  since  her  own 
release. 

I'm  a  scout,  on  duty  with  my  partner  up  there,"  answered 
White,  pointing  to  the  crest  where  McLellan  awaited  him. 

"  Let  me  go  there,  then — anywhere  away  from  the  Indians," 
she  begged,  shuddering  at  the  remembrance. 

Hastily  the  two  made  the  ascent.  As  they  climbed  upward  the 
war-whoops  of  a  hundred  Indians  apprised  them  that  the  squaw's 
body  had  been  found,  and  that  her  people  were  bent  on  aveng- 
ing  her  death.  In  low,  anxious  tones  the  whites  held  a  council  of 
war.  Everything  was  provided  for  ;  rifles  were  seen  to,  knives 
were  made  ready  for  use.  Only  the  wooded  ridge  could  be  de^ 
fended  ;  they  must  hope  that  no  warrior  would  leap  across  thai 
chasm  two  hundred  feet  deep  ;  against  a  foe  approaching  on  that 
side  there  was  no  shelter. 

"See  here,  Miss,"  said  McLellan,  when  they  had  prepared  to 
receive  their  enemies ;  "you'd  a  great  deal  better  go  back  to 
'em ;  tell  'em  we  took  you  a  prisoner  and  you  got  away ;  that 
there's  only  two  of  us,  and  we're  here.  If  you  do  that,  they 
won't  hurt  you.  If  you  stay  here,  there's  no  hope  of  getting 
away  alive." 

"  I  have  lived  with  them  ten  years,"  replied  the  girl,  in  a  low, 
determined  voice;  "  when  they  took  me  captive,  I  was  a  little 
child;  they  burned  the  house,  shot  my  father,  tomahawked  my 
mother,  dashed  the  baby  against  a  tree,  and  carried  me  off*.  On- 
ly my  brother  Eli  escaped.  He  was  not  at  home.  Do  you  won- 
der that  I  would  rather  die  here  with  you  than  go  back  to  live 
with  them  ?    I  hate  them." 

Pen  cannot  express  the  emphasis  upon  the  last  words.  McLel- 
lan caught  at  the  name  she  had  mentioned. 


iOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER, 


What  is  your  brother^s  name  V  he  asked. 
*'BIi  Washburne/' 

Why,  he  is  one  of  us — Gen.  Wayne's  scouts.  But  we  cannot 
defend  you — we  shall  probably  be  killed,  both  of  us." 

I  can  shoot,  and  if  one  of  you  should  be  wounded — look — 
there  they  come 

It  was  even  so;  creeping  cautiously  along  from  tree  to  tree, 
the  Indians  were  advancing  upon  the  scouts,  along  the  narrow 
ridge  that  we  have  described.  The  white  men  had  not  been  idle 
while  the  girl  had  pled  her  cause,  and  their  rifles  were  ready  to 
be  used  the  moment  a  warrior  came  within  range.  Nearer  and 
nearer  drew  the  savages,  and  the  whoops  of  those  ascending  the 
ridge  reassured  the  foremost  in  the  search.  At  last  one  warrior 
exposed  himself  a  moment,  and  the  crack  of  a  rifle  sounded  from 
the  thicket  where  the  scouts  were  concealed.  Leaping  into  the 
lir,  his  body  rolled  down  the  slope  to  the  bottom  of  the  ravine 
beside  it. 

Again  and  again  this  occurred,  and  the  Indians  approached 
more  cautiously  than  ever.  But  as  the  scouts  saw  what  thronga 
of  redskins  were  seeking  them,  they  realized  how  long  would  be 
the  time  during  which  they  must  be  on  the  alert.  If  they  were 
attacked  only  in  this  direction,  if  the  Indians  did  not  think  of 
the  spur  across  that  chasm,  they  might  be  able  to  defend  them- 
selves. But  here  arose  another  difficulty ;  their  girl  companion 
had  disappeared;  had  she  taken  their  advice  and  returned  to  her 
captors?  If  she  had  done  so  and  given  the  information  that  there 
were  but  two  of  the  white  men,  then  indeed  their  fate  was  sealed; 
the  Indians,  thus  reassured,  would  rush  upon  them,  certain  of 
victory. 

Still  they  had  no  mind  to  surrender,  even  if  surrender  had 
been  possible  ;  it  was  but  devoting  themselves  to  death,  perhaps 
to  torture;  and  they  could  die  here.  But  now  they  found  that 
their  worst  hopes  were  realized  ;  the  savages  were  approaching 
the  brink  of  the  precipice;  a  leap  of  twelve  feet  was  nothing  to 
these  denizens  of  the  forest,  trained  to  activity  from  their  infan- 
cy;  and  on  that  side  they  were  without  the  shelter  which  the 
thicket  afforded  them  on  the  other  avenue  of  approach.  Now  a 
warrior,  rifle  in  hand,  darts  forward  from  among  the  trees  to  the 
very  brink  of  the  gulf,  and  gathers  himself  for  the  leap.  The  bar- 
rier once  passed,  he  would  dash  into  range,  take  aim  and  fire  at 
the  scouts.  McLellan  raised  his  rifle  for  a  careful  shot ;  he  must 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER, 


THE  WHITE  squaw's  SHOT. 


118 


SOME  HEROINES  OP  THE  BORDER. 


shoot  to  kill,  as  soon  as  the  savage  should  have  reached  the 
nearer  edge,  a  hundred  yards  from  the  scout's  position.  He  pull- 
ed the  trigger ;  the  weapon,  the  best  procurable  in  those  days, 
was  a  flint-lock  liable  to  fail  him  at  any  moment.  It  failed  him 
now;  the  flint  was  shivered  into  atoms. 

But  at  the  very  moment  that  he  found  his  own  weapon  useless, 
a  report  rang  out  upon  the  air,  and  the  warrior,  in  the  midst  of 
his  leap,  sank  into  the  yawning  chasm.  He  looked  about  him, 
thinking  that  White  might  have  come  to  the  rescue  ;  but  almost 
at  the  instant  that  the  thought  crossed  his  mind,  his  companion 
fired  upon  an  Indian  advancing  in  the  other  direction.  Wasting 
no  time  in  useless  conjecture,  he  proceeded  to  replace  the  flint, 
when  he  heard  a  report  as  if  it  were  the  echo  of  his  companion's ; 
and  looking  up,  he  saw  a  warrior,  whosefeethad  just 'touched  the 
nearer  edge  of  the  precipice,  fall  backward. 

A  howl  of  dismay  arose  from  their  enemies,  as  this  was  seen ; 
and  the  scouts  answered  with  a  shout  of  triumph;  but  the  myster- 
ious rifleman  was  silent;  whoever  fired  the  shots  spoke  only  by 
actions.  From  their  hiding  place,  the  white  man  could  see  the 
savages  running  hither  and  thither,  apparently  summoning  the 
warriors  and  chiefs  to  a  council.  Night  was  coming  on  ;  and  be- 
fore the  red  clouds  in  the  west  had  entirely  faded,  all  the  In- 
dians had  withdrawn. 

But  their  danger  was  by  no  means  past.  The  redskins  were 
aware  of  their  presence  in  the  neighborhood,  and  they  were  prob- 
ably surrounded  by  guards.  At  dusk  they  heard  the  sound  of  a 
light  footstep,  approaching  through  the  bushes ;  did  the  savages 
hope  to  steal  upon  them  unaware?  Cocking  their  rifles,  the 
scouts  peered  through  the  gathering  darkness.  Presently  the 
girl  came  into  sight. 

"Halt!''  commanded  McLellan ;  "turnback  to  the  redskins. 
We've  no  further  use  for  you," 

"  I  have  done  my  best,''  replied  the  girl.  "  If  I  go  back  to  the 
village  they  will  kill  me.    Why  will  you  not  receive  me?" 

"Because  you  come  from  them,  to  engage  our  attention  while 
they  steal  upon  us.  Go  back,  for  I  don't  want  to  fire  on  Eli 
Washburne's  sister." 

"Trust  me,  trust  me,"  cried  she ;  "I  will  not  betray  you ;  I  have 
not  done  so.  I  have  helped  you.  It  was  I  who  shot  thetWo  In- 
dians over  there." 

Wary  as  they  must  be,  distrustful  as  they  might  be,  her  earnest 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


119 


ness  was  such  that  the  scouts  could  not  but  believe  her,  and 
McLellan  bade  her  advance.  Then  she  told  her  story ;  how,  see- 
ing the  first  warrior  fall,  she  had  stolen  away  from  the  scouts' 
post,  down  into  the  hollow  whither  his  body  had  rolled.  While 
creeping  through  the  bushes,  slowly  so  that  she  might  go  silent- 
ly, she  overheard  the  Indians  plan  to  advance  upon  the  scouts 
from  the  spur  we  have  mentioned.  Eagerly  she  secured  the  gun 
and  ammunition  of  the  fallen  brave,  and  sought  an  eyrie  which 
commanded  their  proposed  route,  and  which  was  known  only  to 
herself.  There  she  had  taken  aim  and  fired,  with  what  result 
has  been  seen. 

"  And  the  second,^'  she  concluded,  "was  High  Bear,  who  led 
the  party  that  murdered  my  father  and  mother,  and  carried  me 
off  a  captive.^' 

Her  story  had  been  briefly  and  modestly  told;  the  last  sen- 
tence was  the  only  one  which  showed  any  triumph,  and  that  was 
chiefly  in  the  fact  that  her  murdered  kindred  had  been  avenged. 
So  little  time  had  it  taken,  that  it  was  not  yet  dark  when  she  had 
finished.  A  few  moments  were  spent  in  consultation,  then  the 
party  refreshed  themselves  with  what  food  they  had  ;  for  it  was 
impossible  to  escape  before  darkness  should  shelter  them.  As 
Miss  Washburne  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  lay  of  the 
land,  she  was  to  be  the  guide. 

Night  came  on,  and  when  the  village  below  them  was  wrapped 
in  slumber,  save  the  sentinels  that  paced  their  weary  round,  the 
three  whites  cautiously  descended  the  slope,  and  made  their  way 
across  the  plain.  Bidding  the  scouts  wait  at  a  certain  point  un- 
til her  return,  the  guide  went  forward  alone,  and  in  a  moment 
they  could  hear  her  voice  in  conversation  with  a  warrior.  Was 
it  treachery  ?  Had  her  whole  story  been  a  cunningly  fabricated 
one,  designed  to  entrap  them  into  the  power  of  her  adopted  peo- 
ple ?  As  these  thoughts  occurred  to  the  scouts,  they  cocked  their 
rifles  and  resolved  that  at  least  they  would  die  game  ;  nothing 
more  could  be  done. 

We  need  not  wonder  at  their  distrust.  The  Indians  frequently 
carried  off  children,  and  brought  them  up  as  their  own.  Indeed, 
in  some  cases,  the  adopted  sons  and  daughters  were  more  tend- 
erly cared  for  and  petted  than  those  born  to  them.  Infant  or 
adult,  the  white  person  once  received  into  their  families  was  an 
individual  of  much  consideration.  This  had  its  due  effect  upon 
the  feelings  of  the  captives,  and  in  many  cases  they  refused  to 


120 


DME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


return  to  their  own  people  when  opportunity  oifered.    Such  a 

one  might  this  girl  be ;  devoted  to  her  adopted  people,  and  ready 

to  sacrifice  any  one  to  the  welfare  of  the  Shawnees. 

But  their  suspicions  proved  groundless,  for  she  was  alone 

when  she  returned  to  their  place  of  concealment. 
^'  I  have  just  got  two  sentinels  out  of  the  way/'  she  explained, 
and  now  we  can  go  on.    We  must  go  through  the  very  heart 

of  the  village,  though,  for  every  other  path  is  strictly  guarded. 

If  we  are  very  careful,  there  will  be  no  danger,  as  they  will  not 

suspect  me.'' 

They  were  in  the  very  midst  of  the  village,  when  the  dogs, 
the  invariable  companions  of  the  Indians,  set  up  a  loud  barking. 
More  than  one  squaw,  aroused  by  the  noise,  put  her  head  out 
from  the  lodge  to  see  what  had  occasioned  the  disturbance;  but 
the  scouts  slunk  back  into  the  deep  shadows,  the  guide  answered 
in  the  Indian  language,  and  the  questioners  retired,  satisfied  that 
nothing  was  wrong.  At  last  the  confines  of  the  village  were 
reached;  they  were  out  of  hearing  and  might  go  as  fast  as  their 
strength  would  permit.  Through  the  forest  they  journeyed  at  a 
rapid  rate,  making  no  pause  until  noon  of  the  next  day,  when  they 
considered  that  they  were  reasonably  safe  from  pursuit.  Con- 
tinuing their  march  at  a  more  moderate  pace,  they  reached 

Mad  Anthony"  Wayne's  headquarters  without  farther  adven- 
ture. The  Indians,  not  knowing  how  much  of  their  plans  might 
have  been  found  out  by  the  daring  scouts,  or  revealed  by  their 
escaped  captive,  dispersed  without  carrying  out  their  intention 
of  making  war.  Thus  the  rifle  of  the  white  squaw prevent- 
ed, for  the  time  at  least,  the  horrors  of  Indian  outrages  and  de* 
predations. 

MRS.  Merrill's  exploit. 

The  year  1791  saw  a  most  remarkable  instance  of  a  woman's 
heroism.  A  settler  named  Merrill  lived  in  a  lonely  cabin  in  Nel- 
son County,  Tirginia,  his  family  consisting  of  his  wife,  one 
daughter  just  budding  into  womanhood,  and  other  smaller  chil- 
dren. As  usual  where  much  of  the  food  for  the  family  must  be 
obtained  by  the  chase,  there  were  many  dogs  about  the  place. 
One  night  these  kept  up  an  unusual  noise.  Thinking  that  per- 
haps they  were  barking  at  some  belated  traveler  who  had  come 
to  ask  for  shelter  or  to  inquire  his  road,  the  hospitable  pioneer 
started  out  to  investigate.  As  he  opened  the  door,  thus  throw- 
ing his  figure  into  clear  relief  against  the  fire  blazing  at  the 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


121 


other  side  of  the  room,  there  was  a  sharp  report,  a  shot  struck 
him,  and  he  fell  backward  upon  the  floor.  There  could  be  but 
one  explanation  ;  and  even  while  the  yells  of  the  dusky  foes  were 
yet  sounding,  the  wife  and  daughter  had  drawn  him  farther  into 
the  room,  and  closed  and  barred  the  door. 

The  instant  that  the  shot  was  fired,  the  savages  had  rushed 
forward,  hoping  that  the  door  would  not  be  closed  in  time  to 
prevent  their  entrance;  but  the  promptness  of  the  two  women 
had  defeated  this  intention.  Nothing  daunted,  however,  by  the 
interposition  of  the  planks  between  them  and  their  prey,  they 
began  to  belabor  the.  barrier  with  their  tomahawks.  A  breach 
was  soon  made,  and  the  foremost  endeavored  to  squeeze  through 
this  into  the  room. 

But  the  courageous  woman  within  was  ready  for  him.  Her 
husband  lay  suffering,  perhaps  dying;  her  little  children  were 
screaming  with  fright;  the  eldest  daughter  knelt  at  her  father's 
side,  white  and  trembling,  but  endeavoring,  with  the  rude  sur- 
gery of  the  frontier,  to  staunch  the  flow  of  blood  and  bind  up 
the  wound  ;  the  exulting  yells  without  showed  how  secure  of 
success  were  the  assailants.  Seizing  an  axe,  she  dealt  the  in- 
truder a  swinging  blow  upon  the  head.  He  died  without  a 
groan,  and  the  intrepid  woman  dragged  his  body  into  the  room. 
His  companion,  supposing  that  he  had  entered  of  his  own  will, 
prepared  to  follow,  but  met  with  the  same  fate.  j^\gain  and 
again  was  this  repeated,  and  four  Indians — in  latter  day  phrase- 
ology, ^^good"  ones — lay  on  the  floor  of  the  cabin. 

But  the  suspicions  of  those  without  were  now  aroused  ;  they 
did  not  see  why  their  companions  within  the  cabin  should  be  so 
silent,  why  the  door  had  not  been  opened  to  admit  them.  Re- 
treating to  some  little  distance,  they  tried  to  get  a  fair  view 
of  the  interior.  There  lay  the  wounded  father,  the  daugliter 
bending  over  him;  there  stood  the  heroic  wife,  axe  in  hand, 
awaiting  the  approach  of  another  enemy.  The  bodies  of  their 
fated  comrades  they  could  not  see,  they  having  been  dragged  to 
one  side.  It  was  evident  that  some  new  plan  of  attack  must  be 
adopted. 

There  were  three  Indians  yet  remaining,  of  the  party  of  seven. 
It  was  agreed  that  two  of  these  should  climb  to  the  roof  of  the 
cabin  and  descend  the  chimney;  while  the  other,  waiting  until 
this  had  been  accomplished,  and  the  attention  of  the  inmates  di- 
verted^ should  enter  through  the  breach  in  the  door.  Silently 


132  SOME  HEROINES  OP  THE  BORDER. 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


123 


as  they  might  steal  up  to  the  house,  they  could  not  reach  the 
roof  without  noise,  and  Mrs.  Merrill  speedily  detected  their  pur- 
pose. The  thrifty  housewife  had  provided  huge  feather  beds 
for  her  family,  and  one  of  these  she  directed  her  little  son  to 
drag  to  the  fireplace.  The  united  efforts  of  the  boy  and  his 
sister  placed  the  huge  mass  in  the  very  center  of  the  glowing 
embers.  The  cotton  cover  caught  fire  and  kindled  the  feathers. 
As  the  two  savages  descended  the  wide-mouthed  chimney,  a  suf-J 
focating  smoke  arose  from  the  burning  feathers.  Half  insensible 
by  reason  of  it,  they  were  unable  to  climb  to  the  roof  or  even  to 
remain  where  they  were,  and  fell,  helpless  to  the  hearth.  The 
wounded  man  roused  himself  and  dispatched  them  before  they 
recovered  from  their  insensibility;  while  the  wife  still  kept 
guard  at  the  door. 

Having  allowed  what  he  considered  a  sufiicient  time  for  his 
comrades  to  effect  their  entrance,  the  one  rem-aining  savage 
crept  up  to  the  door,  and  tomahawk  in  hand,  sprang  forward. 
Once  again  that  axe  descended,  but  with  less  fatal  effect  than 
before;  he  was  wounded,  not  killed.  Howling  with  pain  and 
dismay,  he  took  himself  off  to  the  woods,  and  never  paused  un- 
til he  reached  the  village  of  his  tribe.  A  white  prisoner,  who 
afterward  escaped,  overheard  his  account  of  it. 

"  What  news  ?     asked  a  warrior. 
Bad  news/'  answered  the  fugitive  ;  "  damn  bad  news.  Long- 
knife  squaw  fight  worse  than  the  warriors  of  her  people." 

There  is,  we  believe,  no  further  record  of  the  Merrills  in  border 
history;  from  which  we  infer  that  the  escaped  Indian's  story 
made  his  kindred  afi'aid  to  attack  the  cabin  again. 

MRS.  MASON. 

A  woman  who  defended  her  home  and  her  children  might  well 
have  been  the  terror  of  the  savages.  Such  a  otie  was  the  wife 
of  George  Mason,  a  settler  who  had  located  his  cabin  about 
twelve  miles  from  Knoxville,  Tennessee.  January  27th,  1794,  he 
heard  a  noise  at  his  stable  during  the  night,  and  stepped  out  to 
ascertain  the  cause.  His  wife,  left  alone  in  the  house  with  her 
young  children,  waited  in  vain  for  his  return.  ,  Cut  off  from  his 
cabin  by  a  dozen  Indians,  he  fled,  but  was  pursued,  fired  on  and 
wounded.  He  took  shelter  in  a  cave  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
thv.  bouse,  but  the  savages  were  close  behind  him,  and  he  was 
dragged  forth  and  tomahawked. 

Meanwhile,  the  woman  waiting  at  the  house  had  heard  the 


124 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


shots,  but  was  at  a  loss  to  know  their  meaning;  for  although  the 
Indians  had  committed  many  outrages  in  that  part  of  the  coun- 
try, she  had  not  lived  on  the  frontier  long  enough  to  attribute 
every  such  disturbance  to  the  savages.  As  they  returned  to  the 
house,  she  heard  their  jubilant  voices,  and  thinking  that  perhaps 
the  neighbors  had  been  aroused  by  the  firing,  and  were  gather- 
ing together,  she  sprang  towards  the  door  to  admit  them. 

As  they  came  nearer,  she  could  distinguish  their  words;  ac- 
quainted with  both  English  and  German,  she  perceived  that  this 
language  was  different  from  either;  and  for  the  first  time  it 
flashed  across  her  mind  that  these  were  Indians,  that  it  was  her 
own  home  that  was  the  center  of  attack. 

Hastily  barring  the  door,  she  moved  chairs  and  tables,  a  true 
feminine  barricade,  against  it.  Her  children  had  not  been  awak- 
ened by  the  shots,  and  fearful  that  if  they  awoke  their  cries 
would  be  a  guide  to  the  enemy,  she  covered  them  carefully  and 
closely  with  the  bed-clothes,  so  that,  even  if  they  heard  the 
noises,  their  own  voices  would  be  smothered  by  blankets  and 
quilts.  Fortunately,  her  husband  had  that  very  morning  shown 
her  how  the  double-trigger  of  a  rifle  was  set,  and  taking  down 
his  well-charged  weapon  from  the  wall  where  it  hung,  she  placed 
herself  directly  opposite  the  opening  which  would  be  made. 

As  she  stood  alone  in  the  darkness,  awaiting  the  coming  of  the 
yelling  savages,  she  realized  that  her  husband  had  been  killed, 
else  surely  he  would  have  come  to  her  help  ;  but  the  thought 
only  nerved  her  to  greater  courage;  she  alone,  weak  woman  as 
she  was,  must  avenge  him  and  protect  his  children.  She  had 
not  long  to  wait;  with  fence-rails  and  tomahawks  the  savages 
beat  in  the  door,  but  the  heavy  furniture  prevented  its  swinging 
wide  open.  The  body  of  one  savage  was  thrust  into  the  narrow 
opening,  and  just  filled  it.  He  struggled  to  get  in,  and  two  or 
three  more,  just  behind  him,  were  pushing  him  forward.  She 
{^c  t  the  trigger  of  the  rifle,  put  the  muzzle  almost  against  the 
iKxiy  of  the  foremost,  and  fired.  As  she  had  expected,  the 
Indians  went  down  like  bricks  in  a  row;  the  first  without  a 
groan,  the  second  with  a  scream  of  mortal  agony,  the  third  with 
an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  terror. 

Not  a  word  said  the  heroine,  as  she  stood  alone  in  the  dark- 
ness, beside  the  trundle-bed  where  her  children  slept;  not  a 
movement  betrayed  her  whereabouts.  The  savages,  tc"  !^ea  by 
the  silence  succeeding  the  unlooked-for  shot,  thought  that  surely 


SOME  HEROINES  OF  THE  BORDER. 


125 


Xhe  cabin  was  full  of  armed  men.  Quickly  they  made  oflf  to  the 
stable,  and  after  possessing  themselves  of  the  three  horses  which 
it  contained,  set  it  on  fire.  Eetreating  hastily  through  the 
woods  when  they  had  thus  assured  themselves  that  all  pursuit 
must  be  on  foot,  they  regained  their  camp.  Twenty-five  Indians 
had  made  up  the  party,  and  one  woman  had  defeated  all. 


A  FRONTIER  USSl^  MO.fiEROINE, 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE  LEWIS  AND  CLAEKE  EXPEDITION. 

AS  we  glance  hurriedly  over  the  last  census  returns,  to  ascer- 
tain the  rank  of  a  favorite  city,  or  some  other  point  of  equal 
importance,  we  must  often  pause  to  think  that  it  was  not  so  form- 
erly ;  such  a  state  was  placed  above  such  another  in  the  list,  such 
a  city  was  but  a  small  town,  ten  years  ago.  But  go  back  for 
eighty  years,  and  note  the  differences.  Of  the  ten  cities  highest 
on  the  last  list  only  one-half  figured  prominently  in  the  returns 
of  1800.  Cincinnati,  a  little  town  on  the  Ohio,  had  been  settled 
but  twelve  years  before,  and  boasted  less  than  eight  hundred  in- 
habitants. True,  beyond  the  Mississippi  were  larger  towns,  but 
they  were  not  in  the  limits  of  the  United  States ;  that  whole  coun- 
try then  belonged  to  Prance.  In  the  Southwest,  the  most  import- 
ant was  New  Orleans,  which  contained  eight  thousand  people,  or 
more  than  twice  as  many  as  Brooklyn  then.  Cahokia,  a  town  on 
the  east  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  was  the  most  considerable  Am- 
erican settlement  in  the  region  above.  Seven  miles  above  it  was  a 
French  trading  post  and  village,  which  boasted  not  a  single  house 
built  of  any  other  material  than  logs,  and  from  which,  for  years 
afterward,  the  inhabitants  used  to  come,  to  buy  goods,  to  the 
town  whose  site  is  now^inthe  midst  of  the  Mississippi.  This  un- 
import  it  village,  the  sixth  city  on  our  latest  list,  has  since  at- 
tained considerable  notoriety,  her  hopeful  citizens  styling  her, 
affectionately,  the  "  Future  Great  City  of  the  World,''  or  with  true 
American  brevity,  the  "  Future  Great.''  Three  years  later,  the 
unsettled  wilderness  to  the  south  of  Lake  Michigan  saw  the  erec- 
tion of  a  rude  stockade  fort,  named  Dearborn,  where  in  1831  the 
village  of  Chicago  was  built.  Away  on  the  Pacific  coast,  the 
Spanish  missionaries  had  already  been  at  work,  and  the  harbor 
entered  by  the  Golden  Gate  was  the  approach  to  one  of  their 
posts,  where,  in  1835,  a  village  of  adobe  huts  was  begun;  called, 
from  the  mission,  San  Francisco- 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 


127 


Such,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  were  the  great  cities  of 
the  West,  and  we  may  imagine  the  state  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try when  such  was  the  character  of  the  centers  of  population. 
Not  yet  had  the  idea  of  an  overland  passage  to  the  Pacific  been 
abandoned,  though  the  dangers  of  the  way  and  thq  length  of  the 
journey  were  better  appreciated  than  they  had  been  nearly  two 
hundred  years  before,  when  the  French  settlers  in  Canada  ex- 
pected to  find  the  western  ocean  a  few  days^  easy  journey  from 
Lake  Superior.  Even  before  the  Eevolution  the  project  had  been 
tried  by  Jonathan  Carver,  but  want  of  means  obliged  him  to 
aoanaun  it.  The  war  occupied  the  attention  of  all,  exclusively, 
and  there  was  no  time  or  money  for  such  expeditions.  In  the 
meantime,  however,  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  had  sent  its  trad- 
ers into  the  western  wilderness,  and  after  peace  was  concluded, 
John  Jacob  Astor  transacted  much  business  with  them. 

It  was  not  until  after  the  purchase  of  Louisiana  by  the  United- 
States  in  1803  that  the  government  first  took  an  interest  in  such 
explorations.  This  purchase  was  made  by  the  influence  of  Pres* 
ident  Jefferson,  whose  keen  eye  saw  the  advantages  which  would 
attend  such  extension  of  territory.  Highly  delighted  at  his  suc- 
cess, he  recommendf^d  to  Congress,  in  a  confidential  message,  that 
a  party  Sliould  be  despatched  to  trace  the  Missouri  to  its  source, 
cross  the  Kocky  Mountains,  and  proceed  to  the  Pacific.  The  plan 
was  approved  by  Congress,  Captain  Meriwether  Lewis,  the  Pres- 
ident's private  secretary,  being  appointed  to  lead  the  expedition, 
William  Clarke,  the  brother  of  Gen.  George  llogers  Clarke,  was 
afterward  associated  with  him,  and  the  success  vith  which  they 
met  was  largely  dne  to  his  knowledge  of  the  habits  and  character 
of  the  Indians. 

The  preparations  for  the  expedition  were  completed  and  the 
party  selected  before  the  close  of  1803.  Nine  young  men  from 
Kentucky,  fourteen  United  States  soldiers,  two  French  watermen 
to  serve  as  interpreter  and  hunter,  and  a  black  servant  of  Capt. 
Clarke,  composed  the  party,  enlisted  to  serve  as  privates  during 
the  expedition.  Several  others  were  to  accompany  them  a  part 
of  the  way.  It  was  the  twenty-first  of  May,  1804,  however,  when 
they  left  St.  Charles,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  for  the  un- 
trodden western  wilds.  On  the  first  day  of  June  they  were  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Osage,  where  they  listened  to  the  story  that  their 
French  guides  gravely  told  them  of  the  origin  of  the  trib^.  fronjt 
whom  the  river  was  named.    This  was  the  story : 


12« 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 


A  snail  had  passed  its  who^s  existence  in  quiet  on  the  xuargin 
of  this  stream,  when  a  high  flood  swept  it  down  to  the  Mis  jouri, 
and  left  it  exposed  upon  th©  bank.  Here  the  heat  of  the  sun  soon 
ripened  the  snail  into  a  man^  but  the  change  in  his  nature  had 
not  caused  him  to  forget  his  native  river,  and  thither  he  bent 
his  steps.  Soon  overtaken  by  hunger  and  fatigue,  he  was  nearly 
fainting  with  exhaustion,  when  the  Great  Spirit,  appearing  to 
him,  gave  him  a  bow  and  arrow  and  showed  him  how  to  kill  and 
cook  deer,  and  cover  himself  with  its  skin.  As  he  approached 
the  river,  he  met  a  beaver. 

"Who  are  you  asked  the  beaver,  haughtily,  "and  why  do 
you  come  to  disturb  me  in  my  possessions 

The  Osage  (for  such  was  the  snail-man)  haughtily  answered 
that  the  river  w^as  his  own,  for  he  had  once  lived  on  its  bo\ders. 


THE  OSAGE'S  father-in-law. 

The  dispute  threatened  to  grow  into  a  fight.  The  daughter  of  the 
beaver,  however,  reconciled  them,  and  w^as  finally  married  to 
the  Osage  ;  the  whole  tribe  being  their  descendants. 

Many  friendly  visits  w^ere  received  from  parties  of  Indians  from 
the  various  tribes  along  the  banks,  and  they  distributed  laced 
coats,  hats,  medals  and  trinkets  am.ong  them,  carefully  suiting 
the  gift  to  the  rank  of  their  recipient.  Passing  the  quarry  where 
the  red  stone  used  for  calumets  is  found,  a  place  sacred  to  peace, 
where  even  warring  tribes  meet  without  hostile  demonstrations, 
they  reached,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  August,  a  bluff,  surrounded 
by  a  beautiful  plain.  Fine  prairies  were  on  either  side  of  the 
river,  and  timber  was  more  plentiful.  Here  they  encamped,  de- 
siring to  repair  a  boat  which  had  been  injured,  and  do  some 
other  necessary  work.  Here  they  were  visited  by  a  number  of 
Sioux  chiefs  and  warriors  on  the  thirtieth,  to  whom  Capt.  Lewir 
delivered  a  speech,  with  the  usual  advice  regarding  their  futur<f 
conduct.    The  council  held  the  next  day  is  remarkable  for  tUks 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 


similarity  of  the  speeches,  each  speaker  laying  great  stress  upon 
his  love  for  the  white  sons  of  his  great  father,  and  his  poverty, 
which  could  be  relieved  by  gifts  from  them.  This  place  they 
called  Council  Bluifs,  because  it  was  the  scene  of  the  first  formal 
council  held  with  the  Indians. 

As  yet  they  had  been  received  with  great  professions  of  friend- 
shir>  by  the  Indians,  who,  although  generally  tall,  well  formed 
and  active,  excelling  in  personal  beauty  and  dignity  the  tribes 
farther  east,  were  poorly  armed,  generally  w^ith  bows  and  ar- 
rows.   Their  fii'st  alarm  came  from  another  source. 

The  Missouri  is  a  peculiarly  changing  river,  washing  away  one 
shore  and  adding  to  the  other  continually.  In  a  few  years  whole 
farms,  of  many  acres  each,  have  been  thus  carried  away  from 
their  owners  by  the  treacherous  stream.  Such  was  the  danger 
which  now  beset  them.  About  midnight  on  the  twentieth  of 
September  the  sleepers  were  startled  by  the  cry  that  the  sand- 
bar was  sinking.  Hastily  embarking,  they  made  for  the  other 
shore,  reaching  it  barely  in  time  to  see  the  bank  which  they  had 
just  left  fall  into  the  water. 

At  an  island  a  few  miles  above  this  point  they  were  joined  by 
one  of  their  hunters,  whose  horse  had  been  stolen  by  the  Indiaiis* 
Leaving  the  island,  they  soon  overtook  five  Indians  on  the  shore; 
having  anchored,  they  spoke  to  them  from  the  boat ; 

We  are  friends,  and  wish  to  rem.^in  such,  but  we  are  not  afraid 
of  any  Indians.  Some  of  your  young  men  have  stolen  the  horse 
which  your  great  father  in  "Washington  sent  for  your  great  chief, 
and  w^e  cannot  treat  with  you  until  it  is  brought  back  to  us.'' 

The  Indians  replied  that  they  had  not  seen  the  horse,  but  that 
if  it  had  been  taken,  it  should  be  given  up  ;  and  continued  along 
the  shore,  following  the  boats  until  they  dropped  anchor  for  the 
night.  The  next  day  they  were  visited  by  a  party  of  fifty  or  six- 
ty chiefs  and  warriors,  to  whom  they  made  the  usual  speeches 
and  gave  the  usual  presents.  Inviting  the  chiefs  on  board  the 
boat  (for  the  reception  had  taken  place  on  land),  they  showed 
them  an  air-gun^  the  boat  itself,  and  all  that  they  thought  would 
furnish  amusement  to  the  visitors.  In  this  purpose  they  suc- 
ceeded only  too  well,  for  they  found  it  difficult  to  get  rid  of  them. 
A  quarter-glass  of  whiskey  given  to  each  one  did  not  mend  mat- 
ters any,  but  sucking  the  bottle  and  finding  there  was  no  more, 
the  chief  finally  consented  to  accompany  Captain  Clarke  and  fiv*e> 
men  on  shore.    But  they  had  formed  a  plan  to  stop  the  party. 


130 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEJDITION. 


Two  of  the  Indians  prevented  the  boat  from  moving  from  the 
landing-place  after  this  party  had  disembarked,  and  the  second 
chief,  affecting  intoxication,  said : 

^*  You  no  go  on  j  Indian  keep  you  here.  You  give  Indian  heap 
more  t'ings— not  'nough  yet.   Indian  want  heap  more  things/' 

^'We  will  not  be  kept  here/' answered  Captain  Clarke,  indig* 
nantly  j  "  we  are  not  squaws,  but  warriors ;  our  great  father  has 
sent  us  here,  and  he  can  send  his  soldiers  and  kill  all  the  Indiana 
in  an  hour  if  they  do  us  any  harm/' 

Indian  have  warriors  too/'  answered  the  chief,  gruflSy,  as  ^ 
signalled  to  his  men. 

Captain  Clarke  drew  his  sword  instantly,  and  motioned  to  the 
len  in  the  boat  to  prepare  for  action.  The  Indians  surrounding 
.im  drew  their  arrows  from  their  quivers  and  were  bending  their 
bows,  when  the  swivel  in  the  boat  was  instantly^pointed  towards 
them,  and  twelve  of  the  most  determined  of  the  white  men  jump- 
ed into  a  pirogue  and  joined  Captain  Clarke.  This  prompt  act- 
ion alarmed  the  Indians,  who  drew  off  to  a  little  distance  to  hold 
a  council.  Unwilling  to  leave  an  enemy  jn  his  rear.  Captain 
>Clarke  resolved  to  conciliate  them  by  a  show  of  friendliness,  and 
advanced  toward  them  with  extended  hand.  The  principal  and 
the  second  chief  refused  to  take  it,  and  he  turned  fr'jm  them  to- 
wards the  river ;  but  before  he  had  put  thirty  yards  between  the 
pirogue  and  the  shore,  the  two  chiefs  and  two  warriors  waded  in 
after  him,  asking  to  be  taken  on  board. 

Frightened  into  submission  by  this  evidence  that  the  white  men 
were  not  to  be  trifled  with,  the  Indians  now  spared  no  pains  in 
their  efforts  to  entertain  the  strangers  suitably;  the  calumet  was 
smoked,  many  dances,  by  both  men  and  women,  were  performed 
for  their  amusement,  and  a  bountiful  feast  of  boiled  dog,  the  fa- 
vorite  delicacy  of  the  Sioux,  was  provided  for  their  refreshment. 
It  seems,  however,  that  these  Indians  either  could  not  or  would 
not  produce  the  horse-thief. 

For  a  long  time  they  continued  their  journey  in  this  way,  stop«' 
ping  to  receive  visits  from  bands  of  the  Sioux,  who  were  uni« 
formly  well  disposed.  To  follow  them  throughout  the  journey, 
day  by  day,  would  require  more  space  than  can  hero  be  allotted; 
the  reader  desirous  of  doing  so  will  find  McVickar's  edition  of 
Allen's  "  History  of  the  Expedition''  a  book  as  full  of  interest 
as  any  novel  or  newspaper. 

Early  in  November  they  decided  tO_encamp  for  the  winter,  and 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDJTJOIS.     y      ^  i3J 

commenced  the  huts  which  were  to  shelter  them  at  appoint  which 
they  called  Fort  Mandan,  from  the  name  of  the  tribe  living  around 
it,  sixteen  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri.  Here, 
although  suffering  greatly  from  the  severity  of  the  season,  they 
■passed  the  winter;  visited  constantly  by  bands  of  Sioux,  Mandan 
and  Minnetaree  Indians,  among  whom  they  often  acted  as  peace- 
makers. They  were  bountifully  supplied  with  vegetable  food  by 
these  visitors  from  their  stores  of  dried  corn  and  squash,  and  the 
hunters  found  an  abundance  of  game. 

"Vn  February,  four  men  were  despatched  with  sleds  and  three 
horses  to  bring  up  meat  which  had  been  collected  by  the  hunters. 
About  twenty-one  miles  below  the  fort,  as  they  were  jogging  quiet- 
ly along,  with  no  thought  of  any  danger,  a  party  of  a  hundred  In- 
dians rushed  upon  them.  To  what  tribe  they  belonged  the  men 
could  not  distinguish,  so  cunningly  was  the  war  paint  disposed ; 
but  thought  they  w^ere  Sioux.  Eesistance  was  useless  and  the 
marauders,  cutting  the  traces,  carried  off  two  of  the  horses;  the 
chief  insisting  that  the  third  should  be  returned  to  the  owners, 
Two  knives  were  also  taken.  The  men  were  permitted  to  return 
to  the  fort,  no  other  injury  having  been  done  them.  Captain 
Lewis  immediately  sent  to  the  Mandans  to  inform  them  of  the 
outrage,  and  to  invite  them  to  join  a  retaliatory  party.  Two  of 
their  chiefs  came  to  the  fort  and  said  that  most  of  their  young 
men  had  gone  hunting,  and  that  there  were  but  few  ^  ns  in  the 
village;  but  several  Indians,  armed  with  spears,  battle-axes, 
bows  and  arrows,  accompanied  the  expedition  under  Capt.  Lewis 
the  next  morning. 

On  reaching  the  place  where  the  men  had  been  attacked,  they 
found  one  sled,  and  several  pairs  of  moccasins,  evidently  belong- 
ing to  the  Sioux.  Following  the  trail,  they  came  on  the  next  day 
to  an  old  lodge  belonging  to  the  tribe  which  had  committed  the 
depredation;  but  the  marauders,  the  better  to  conceal  themselves, 
had  burned  it.  The  trail  here  left  the  river,  and  crossed  the 
plains  J  so  that  it  was  useless  to  think  of  overtaking  the  thieves. 
Information  was  received,  a  few  days  later,  that  a  party  of  Sioux 
had  attacked  a  small  body  of  friendly  Indians,  and  killed  fifty 
of  them ;  but  Captain  Lewis  decided  not  to  take  active  part  in  a 
war  between  the  tribes  unless  in  self-defense. 

Leaving  the  camp  about  the  first  of  April,  they  were  alarmed, 
on  the  eleventh  of  May,  by  a  member  of  the  party  who  had  been 
on  shore,  who  now  came  running^  Jbpward  the  boat  with  every 


i/EWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 

Sympt^  of  fear  and  distress.   A  mile  and  a  half  below  he  had 

shot  a  large  brown  bear ;  wounded  and  maddened  by  the  pain^ 
the  huge  animal  had  turned  and  pursued  him ;  but  from  weak- 
ness, by  the  loss  of  blood,  could  not  overtake  him.  Captain 
Lewis  and  seven  men  immediately  set  out  to  find  the  bear ;  and 
tracking  him  by  the  blood  to  a  thick  brushwood,  where  he  had 
dug  with  his  paws  a  bed  two  feet  deep,  despatched  him.  This 
was  their  first  conflict  with  the  terrible  animal,  so  dreaded  that 


A  CLOSE  SHAVE. 


we  had  rather  encounter  two  Indians  than  meet  a  single  brown 
bear.''  The  oil  obtained  from  this  one  amounted  to  eight  gallons. 

It  was  not  to  be  the  last  bear  encounter,  however.  Three  days 
later,  six  experienced  hunters,  having  discovered  a  large  brown 
bear  lying  in  the  open  grounds,  about  three  hundred  paces  from 
the  river,  came  nnperceived  within  forty  paces  of  him.  Four  of 
them  fired  at  the  same  instant,  two  balls  passing  through  his  lungs, 
two  lodging  in  other  parts  of  his  body.  Furiously  the  animal 
rushed  towards  them,  his  open  mouth  displaying  the  strong,  cruel 
white  teeth.  A  blow  from  a  hunting  knife  partially  disabled  him, 
and  the  two  who  had  reserved  their  fire  now  took  aim,  one  ball 
breaking  his  should^or.   They  had  uo  time  ti>  reload;  on  the  mad 


LEWIS  ANP  OLARKE  EXPEDITION. 


183 


Drute  came  with  fearful  rapidity ;  two  jumped  into  ih  o  canoes ;  the 
other  four,  separating,  and  concealing  themselves  in  the  willows, 
fired  as  fast  as  they  could  reload.  Bruin  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed 
life,  for  though  every  shot  entered  his  hide,  none  seemed  to  affect 
him  ;  as  each  man  fired,  he  would  rush  furiously  towards  the 
direction  from  which  the  shot  came.  At  last  he  pursued  two  so 
closely  that  they  threw  aside  their  guns  and  pouches,  and  jump- 
ed down  a  perpendicular  bank  into  the  river  that  ran  twenty  feet 
Delow.  The  bear  followed,  and  was  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
hindmost  when  a  well-aimed  shot  from  one  of  the  two  left  on  the 
shore  finished  him.  Dragging  him  to  the  bank,  they  took  his 
skin,  this  trophy  being  pierced  by  eight  balls. 

About  a  month  later,  when  Captain  Lewis  had  one  day  gone 
forward  on  foot,  he  met  an  immense  herd  of  bufi'aloes.  Level- 
ling his  rifle,  he  shot  one;  it  began  to  bleed,  and  v/ithout reload- 
ing he  stood  waiting  for  it  to  fall;  not  noticing  a  large  brown 
bear  which  stole  up  to  him  until  it  was  within  twenty  steps.  It 
was  the  open,  level  plain ;  not  a  bush  or  tree  near ;  the  bank  of 
the  river  a  gradual  slope;  no  chance  for  concealment;  his  only 
hope  lay  in  flight.  As  he  turned,  the  bear  rushed  open-mouthed 
upon  him.  He  ran  about  eighty  yards,  when,  finding  that  the 
bear  was  gaining  fast,  it  flashed  upon  his  mind  that  by  getting 
into  the  water  to  such  a  depth  that  the  bear  would  have  to  at- 
tack him  swimming,  he  might  still  have  a  chance  for  his  life. 
Turning  short,  he  plunged  w^aist  deep  into  the  water,  and  facing 
about,  presented  the  point  of  his  knife  to  the  advancing  bear.  On 
seeing  his  antagonist  in  this  posture  of  defence,  bruin  retreated 
as  precipitately  as  he  had  advanced.  Eesolving  never  again  to 
sufi^er  his  rifle  to  remain  unloaded,  Captain  Lewis  resumed  his 
path  along  the  Medicine  Eiver.  Reaching  the  camp,  he  found 
his  men  much  alarmed  as  to  his  safety,  having  already  decided 
upon  the  route  each  should  take  in  the  morning  to  look  for  him. 
Much  fatigued,  he  slept  well,  not  aware  of  the  fact  that  a  huge 
rattlesnake  was  coiled  upon  the  trunk  of  the  tree  which  shelter- 
ed his  slumbers.  The  reptile  was  discovered  and  killed  the  next 
morning. 

Some  time  before  this,  the  party  had  divided,  there  being  con- 
siderable doubt  as  to  which  was  the  true  Missouri ;  one  party 
ascending  the  stream  now  known  as  the  Yellowstone;  the  other, 
under  Captain  Clarke,  going  up  the  Missouri  and  discovering  the 
falls.    Capt.  Lewis^  party  had  now  reached  the  Missouri,  having 


134  c  LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 

* 

seen  their  mistake,  and  they  were  here  joined  by  Capt.  Clarke 
and  his  men. 

Much  of  the  time  was  spent  in  the  construction  of  si  portable 
boat,  the  iron  frame  of  which  they  had  brought  with  them,  and 
which  was  to  be  covered  with  skins.  After  much  hard  work  in 
preparing  the  skins,  fastening  them  securely  together,  and  calk- 
ing the  seams,  they  launched  her,  greatly  elated  at  their  success; 
but  the  water  dissolved  the  composition  which  they  had  used  in 
place  of  pitch,  which  was  unobtainable,  and  she  leaked  so  badly 
that  they  had  to  give  up  the  idea. 

They  had  learned  that  the  country  which  they  were  now  ap- 
proaching was  inhabited  by  a  powerful,  and  perhaps  a  hostile 
tribe,  the  Shoshonees ;  and  anxious  to  make  peace  with  these,  they 
proceeded  with  the  greatest  caution.  A  warlike  reception  from  so 
large  a  tribe  might  result  in  the  destruction  of  their  small  party. 
Having  ascended  the  Missouri  to  those  three  forks  which  they 
named,  respectively,  for  President  Jefferson,  Secretary  of  State 
Madison,  and  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  Gallatin,  they  came  to  a 
point  five  miles  above  where  the  first  of  these  three  divide  into 
two  branches.  Here  they  encamped  for  the  night  and  remained 
while  Captain  Lewis,  accompanied  by  two  men,  set  out  to  follow  a 
trail  which  they  hoped  would  lead  to  the  Shoshonee  camp,  near 
the  source  of  the  Missouri.  Their  fears  as  to  their  reception  by  this 
tribe,  however,  were  unfounded,  as  they  were  well  received  after 
they  had  succeeded  in  showing  the  Indians  that  there  was  no 
cause  for  alarm.  Still  the  Shoshonees  were  jealous  and  suspi- 
cious, and  it  required  all  the  address  of  which  our  travelers  were 
masters  to  allay  their  disquietude. 

It  was  the  eighteenth  of  August,  1805,  when  they  reached  the 
extreme  navigable  point  of  the  Missouri.  Here  it  was  decided 
that  Captain  Clarke,  with  eleven  men,  furnished  with  the  neces- 
sary arms  and  with  tools  for  making  canoes,  should  make  the 
overland  journey  to  the  Columbia,  and  ascertain  if  the  report 
which  the  Indians  gave  of  that  stream  were  true.  Having  come 
through  such  difficulties,  it  was  not  to  be  readily  believed  that 
they  could  not  descend  the  Columbia  when  they  had  ascended 
the  Missouri.  An  escort  of  Indians  was  obtained  without  much 
difficulty,  and  the  party  again  separated  for  a  time. 

Proceeding  through  a  wide  and  level  valley,  which  the  Indians 
pointed  out  as  the  scene  of  a  battle,  about  a  year  before,  in  which 
many  of  their  bravest  warriors  had  fallen,  Captsiin  Clarke  soon 


./ 

LEWIS  aNL*  CLARKE  EXPEDITION.  ^  135 

ft.,  ail  J  l^a"^,  his  escort  must  be  xcd  from  his  stores.  Tiie  hunters 
were  not  abiu  ]>o  kill  iinything,  and  this  added  materially  to  his 
anxiety.  Yarioiis  \»:iTids  of  Indians  gave  the  same  account  of 
the  country  through  wn^ch  they  must  pass,  whether  they  kept 
dire<jtly  towards  the  west,  or  turned  towards  the  southwest.  It 
was  a  tale  to  appal  a  brave  man;  a  fierce  and  warlike  people 
dwelling  in  caves,  and  living  principally  upon  horses  stolen  from 
those  who  passed  the  mountains;  a  passage  so  rough  thathorseS; 
lame  and  wounded,  would  be  unable  to  go  on ;  a  parched  and 
sandy  desert,  ten  days'  journey  in  width,  where  no  animals  fit 
for  food  were  found,  and  where  they  and  the  few  horses  that  re- 
mained would  perish  of  thirst.  The  northern  passage  was  then 
selected,  the  explorers  reasoning  that  they  could  cross  where  the 
Indians,  with  their  women  and  children,  were  in  the  habit  of 
passing  from  one  point  to  the  other. 

They  soon  discovered  the  object  of  the  Shoshonees  in  telling 
them  of  such  dangers  ;  the  wish  to  keep  them  through  the  winter 
for  protection,  and  to  secure  as  many  gifts  as  possible  ;  but  after 
almost  incredible  difficulty  in  obtaining  enough  horses  fo. 
journey  and  a  supply  of  food,  they  reached  a  river  to  which  they 
gave  the  name  of  Captain  Lewis  ;  a  few  days  later,  they  came  to 
Clarke  Eiver  ;  and  on  the  thirteenth  of  September  the  party  was 
again  united. 

Journeying  through  a  country  where  the  strong  and  barbed 
thorns  of  the  prickly  pear  lacerated  the  feet  of  men  and  horses, 
where  the  middle  of  September  saw  a  fall  of  snow  six  or  eight 
inches  in  depth,  where  no  living  creature  could  be  seen,  except  a 
few  small  pheasants  and  gray  squirrels  that  could  not  be  obtained 
for  food,  with  their  stock  of  provisions  reduced  to  a  few  cans  of 
portable  soup,  they  grew  weak  and  sick  from  fatigue  and  insuffi- 
cent  food.  At  last  they  came  to  an  Indian  village,  where  they 
were  kindly  received  and  bountifully  fed.  These  were  of  the 
tribe  known  to  us  as  the  ^^^ez  Perces^  their  chief  was  absent  at 
the  time  with  a  war  party,  but  the  explorers  managed  to  secure 
a  good  supply  of  food  in  return  for  small  presents. 

They  had  now  traveled  over  the  mountainous  region  between 
the  southern  and  northern  forks  of  the  Lewis,  at  a  point  where 
the  distance  in  a  straight  line  is  about  one  hundred  miles.  Weak- 
ened by  want,  fatigue  and  disease,  they  determined  to  descend 
the  river  by  canoes,  five  of  which  were  accordingly  constructed 
at  their  camp  on  the  Kooskooskee^  a  l>r^neh  of  North  Fork.  Tha 


136  f'  LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 

plain  into  which  they  had  now  descended  had  a  milder  climate 
than  they  had  lately  experienced,  and  had  they  found  the  Nez 
Perces  as  obliging  as  the  Shoshonees,  their  journey  might  have 
been  expedited;  but  this  tribe,  working  hard  all  summer  for  the 
winter  supply  of  dried  salmon  and  roots,  hunting  deer  through 
the  winter,  and  crossing  the  mountains  in  the  spring  to  trade, 
was  but  little  disposed  to  return  any  of  the  favors  shown  them, 
and  developed  a  talent  for  bargaining  which  seems  to  have  been 
quite  distasteful  to  the  party  accustomed  to  get  a  large  amount 
of  provisions  for  a  few  trinketSo  These  Indians  looked  on  with 
contemptuous  surprise,  as  the  white  men,  unable  to  obtain  other 
food,  killed  and  cooked  a  number  of  dogs.  This  dish,  of  which 
they  had  eaten  but  sparingly  when  the  tribes  east  of  the  moun- 
tains had  offered  it  to  them,  they  found  not  unpalatable  after  a 
long  course  of  horse-flesh. 

As  they  floated  from  the  Lewis  into  the  Columbia,  and  down 
the  latter  river,  they  were  constantly  visited  by  large  bands  of 
Indians.  As  they  approached  the  coast,  some  ISTez  Perces,  who 
had  accompanied  them,  grew  uneasy  at  the  idea  of  entering  a 
country  inhabited  by  a  hostile  tribe,  and  desired  to  return.  Their 
keen  eyes  saw  that  the  unusual  reserve  and  caution  of  the  visit- 
ors betokened  an  attack.  Our  travelers,  however,  succeeded  in 
persuading  them  to  remain  until  after  the  passage  of  the  falls 
they  were  approaching. 

They  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  eai  ly  in  November, 
and  encamped  for  the  winter  of  1805-6 ;  constantly  visited  by 
the  Indians,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  trading  with  the  whites, 
and  were  never  satisfied  with  any  price  given  them..  They  dared 
not  show  hostility  in  any  other  mode,  however,  than  by  ill-hu- 
mor and  petty  thefts. 

After  the  cessation  of  a  ten  days^  rain  in  November,  they  occu- 
pied their  time  in  exploring  the  neighboring  coast,  in  curing  the 
meat  with  which  the  hunters  provided  them,  and  in  dressing 
skins  for  clothing.  Leaving  in  charge  of  the  Indians,  and  posted 
up  in  their  houses,  papers  bearing  a  brief  description  of  their 
journey,  they  set  out  towards  the  east  on  March  twenty -third. 

We  need  not  follow  their  course  closely.  The  Indians  were 
still  ill-humored,  and  disinclined  to  trade ;  but  as  they  again  ap- 
proached the  Kooskooskee,  a  new  means  of  obtaining  supplies 
presented  itself,  and  they  turned  physicians.  The  journal  of  the 
'party  does  not  speak  in  enthusiastic  term3  of  either  skill  or  sue- 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 


137 


cess,  though  perhaps  the  certainty  that  their  simple  prescriptions 
could  at  least  do  no  harm  would  not  be  shared  by  every  better- 
trained  physician ;  the  patients,  however,  had  no  fault  to  find, 
one  exchanging  a  fine  mare  for  a  vial  of  eye-water.  Their  fame 
preceded  them,  and  at  the  next  village,  where  their  whole  stock 
of  merchandise  could  not  purchase  food,  fifty  patients  awaited 
them.  The  fee  for  each  cure  ranged  from  a  lean  and  hungry  dog 
to  a  fat  horse;  but  it  must  be  observed  that  payment  rewarded 
cure,  not  treatment. 

As  they  approached  the  mountains,  they  found  the  tribes  more 
hospitable,  one  chief  professing  himself  greatly  insulted  when 
asked  to  exchange  a  fat  horse  for  one  unfit  for  food,  and  present- 
ing them  with  several  animals  in  excellent  condition.  These  In- 
dians were  but  poorly  fed,  since  the  character  of  their  arms  pre- 
vented much  success  in  hunting;  and  the  occasional  gift  of  the 
flesh  of  animals  which  the  white  hunters  killed  was  accepted  with 
demonstrative  gratitude.  This  tribe  is  described  as  the  most 
amiable  they  had  yet  found,  yet  a  favorite  Chopunnish  ornament 
was  a  tippet  of  human  scalps,  fringed  with  the  thumbs  and  fin- 
gers of  enemies  slain  in  battle. 

It  was  not  until  June  that  they  were  enabled  to  cross  the  moun- 
tains, where,  even  then,  they  suffered  much  from  the  cold  in  jour- 
neying over  the  snow-clad  ridges.  Their  stock  of  merchandise 
gave  out,  and  they  could  only  replenish  it  by  cutting  the  but- 
tons off  their  clothes,  and  by  spending  some  time  in  the  manu- 
facture of  eye-water.  They  also  suffered  much  from  unsuitable 
and  insufficient  food,  as  their  hunters  were  able  to  kill  but  little 
game,  but  at  last  reached  the  banks  of  Marians  Eiver,  where  they 
decided  to  remain  for  two  days  to  take  some  observations  and 
rest  their  horses. 

As  they  proceeded  along  this  river,  they  met  with  more  decided 
hostility  than  the  Indians  had  as  yet  dared  to  show.  Ascending 
the  hills  close  to  the  river,  one  of  their  number,  a  Canadian  half- 
breed  named  Drewyer,  proceeded  along  the  valley  on  the  other 
side.  From  their  elevated  path,  they  soon  saw  a  party  of  In- 
dians looking  intently  at  Drewyer.  They  had  already  learned 
that  the  Blackfeet  were  not  disposed  to  be  friendly,  so  that  this 
was  by  no  means  a  welcome  sight.  Supposing  a  large  number  to 
be  near  at  hand,  they  were  unwilling  to  risk  a  fight,  and  retreat 
would  only  invite  a  pursuit  which,  since  their  horses  were  so 
bad,  would  be  only  too  successful.    They  determined,  therefore, 


138  €  LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITIOl^, 

to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  flag  in  hand,  advanced  slowly  tow- 
ards the  Indians.  The  attention  of  the  Blaekfeet  was  so  en- 
tirely directed  to  Drewyer,  that  they  did  not  for  some  time  dis- 
cover this  advance,  which  evidently  threw  them  into  the  greatest 
confusion.  The  whole  party  of  eight  warriors,  being  reassured 
by  the  friendly  signs  and  m.ovements  of  Captain  Lewis,  finally 
came  toward  them,  dismounted  and  smoked  with  them,  while  a 


KILLING  THE  TMEF. 


messenger  was  sent  for  Drewyer.  Captain  Lewis  learned  that 
his  suspicions  were,  unfortunately,  not  without  foundation  j  these 
were  indeed  Blackfeet,  whose  thievishness  was  well  known  ;  but 
feeling  themselves  quite  able  to  cope  with  eight  Indians,  poorly 
armed,  they  encamped  together, 

"Finding  them  very  fond  of  the  pipe.  Captain  Lewis,  who  wish- 
ed to  keep  a  close  watch  during  the  night,  smoked  with  them  un- 
til  a  late  hour.  As  soon  as  they  were  asleep,  he  awoke  one  of 
the  Fields  brothers,  ordering  him  to  arouse  all  in*case  any  of  the 
Indians  left  the  camp,  as  they  would  probably  attempt  to  steal 
hoic-?-  ^  and  lav  down  in  the  tent  with  all  the  Indians,  th©  two 


LEVIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION,  * 

brothers  lying  near  the  fire  at  the  entrance.  Awaking  at  sunrise^ 
one  of  the  Indians  seized,  unperceived,  the  rifles  of  the  two  men 
in  the  tent.  The  sentinel,  turning,  saw  the  state  of  affairs,  and  pur- 
sued him  for  fifty  or  sixty  yards.  As  he  came  up  with  him,  a 
scuffle  ensued,  the  riAe  was  recovered  and  the  Indian  killed. 

Drewyer  and  Caplftin  Lewis  lay  side  by  side  in  the  tent,  their 
rifles  near  them  read  f  for  use  at  a  moment's  notice.  Silently  two 
Indians  stole  towardij  them,  as  their  comrade  seized  the  two  other 
weapons,  and  laid  hold  of  these.  The  moment  the  savage  touched 
his  gun,  Drewyer,  who  was  awake,  jumped  up  and  wrested  it  from 
him.  The  noise  awoke  Captain  Lewis,  who  instantly  started 
from  the  ground  and  reached  to  get  his  gun ;  but,  finding  it  gone, 
he  drew  a  pistol  from  his  belt,  and  turning  about,  saw  an  Indian 
making  off  with  the  rifle.  Following  him  at  ^uU  speed,  he  order- 
ed him  to  lay  it  down.  As  the  Indian  stooped  to  obey  this  order, 
the  two  Fields,  who  had  just  come  up,  took  aim  at  him. 

Don't  fire,''  shouted  Captain  Lewis,  "he  doesn't  seem  to  in- 
tend any  mischief.'' 

Drewyer  begged  permission  to  shoot  him,  but  Captain  Lewis, 
wishing  to  preserve  peaceful  relations  if  possible,  forbade  it.  But 
finding  that  the  Indians  were  now  endeavoring  to  drive  off  all 
the  horses,  he  ordered  the  men  to  follow  up  the  main  party,  who 
were  chasing  the  horses  up  the  river,  and  to  fire  instantly  upon 
the  thieves ;  while  he,  without  taking  time  to  run  for  his  shot- 
pouch,  pursued  the  fellow  who  had  stolen  his  gun  and  another 
Indian,  who  were  driving  away  the  horses  on  the  left  of  the  camp. 
Pressed  so  closely  that  they  were  obliged  to  leave  twelve  of  the 
horses  behind  them,  they  entered  a  steep  niche  in  the  river  bluffs. 
Too  much  out  of  breath  to  pursue  them  any  farther.  Captain  Lew- 
is called  out  that  unless  they  gave  up  the  one  horse  they  retained, 
he  would  fire.  As  he  raised  his  gun  one  of  them  jumped  behind 
a  rock,  and  spoke  to  the  other.  The  second  made  no  attempt  to 
conceal  himself,  and  fell  as  Captain  Lewis  shot.  Having  no  oth- 
er load  for  his  gun,  and  but  one  in  his  pistol,  he  thought  best  to 
retreat. 

Although  the  death  of  this  Indian  had  probably  much  to  do 
with  the  treachery  and  hostility  which  the  Blackfeet  afterward 
always  showed  to  the  whites,  our  explorers  did  not  come  off 
badly  in  this  engagement.  The  savages  had  made  off  with  qne 
horse,  but  four  of  their  own  animals,  four  shields,  two  bows  with 
quivers  and  one  of  their  guns  were  left  in  the  camp.  Little 


LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 


doubting  that  they  would  bo  immediately  pursued  by  a  larger 
party,  the  whites  pushed  on  as  fast  as  they  possibly  could,  travel- 
ing about  a  hundred  miles  before,  almost  exhausted  with  fatigue, 
they  halted  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning;  setting  off  again,  sore 
and  scarcely  able  to  stand,  at  daylight. 

Happily,  they  were  not  pursued,  and  escaped  in  safety.  The 
theft  of  many  of  their  horses  by  Indians  that  they  could  not 
overtake  compelled  them  to  make  skin  canoes  in  which  to  de- 
scend the  river.  Captain  Lewis  received  a  flesh-wound  from  the 
discharge  of  a  gun  that  he  thought  belonged  to  one  of  his  own 
men,  who  had  mistaken  him,  in  his  dress  of  skins,  for  an  elk;  it 
proved,  however,  to  have  been  a  lurking  Indian.  This  gave  him 
considerable  trouble,  and  it  was  not  until  late  in  August  that  he 
lecovered. 

As  they  descended  the  river,  there  were  frequent  alarms  as  to 
the  movements  of  Indian  war-parties,  but  happily  they  were  not 
again  to  suffer  from  their  depredations.  Only  a  few  councils 
with  the  tribes  that  had  been  friendly  on  their  route  toward  the 
west  varied  the  monotony  of  the  journey;  and  they  reached  St. 
Louis  in  safety  on  the  twenty-third  of  September,  1806,  ^^where,'' 
says  the  journal,  we  received  a  most  hearty  and  hospitable  wel- 
come from  the  whole  village.'^ 

The  total  length  of  their  route  from  St.  Louis  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Columbia  was  more  than  four  thousand  miles;  the  return 
being  shortened  by  nearly  six  hundred  miles.  They  treated  with 
all  the  principal  tribes  along  their  route,  and  besides  furnishing 
a  map,  tolerably  accurate  even  for  the  present  day,  described  with 
considerable  fullness  the  plants  and  animals  of  that  section.  As 
the  immediate  results  of  this  expedition,  many  traders  ventured 
into  the  newly  explored  country,  and  established  posts,  which, 
like  the  small  settlements  of  the  Spanish  missionaries,  were  the 
tiirst  foundations  of  the  present  constantly  growing  population  of 
the  Great  West.  It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  neither 
of  these  elements  advanced  the  settlement  of  the  country  as  the 
building  of  frontier  forts  contributed  to  the  growth  of  Kentucky, 
The  traders  endeavored  to  keep  all  others  out  of  the  country, 
that  their  business  might  not  suffer ;  and  the  rule  of  the  Spaniards 
has  never  been  beneficial  to  any  part  of  America.  The  hardy 
pioneers  of  our  own  race,  accustomed  to  govern  and  defend  them-- 
selves,  as  well  as  to  live  by  their  labor,  are  the  settlers  that  ad-1 
vance  the  prosperity  of  a  new  country.  i 


X 


CHAPTER  VIL 

GEN.  WILLIAM  HENEY  HAEEISON. 
ILLIAM  Henry  Harrison,  the  only  son  of  that  Benjamin 


VV  Harrison  who  introduced  into  the  Continental  Congress 
the  resolution  declaring  the  independence  of  the  colonies,  and 
who,  a  few  weeks  later,  affixed  his  signature  to  the  more  formal 
Declaration,  was  born  in  Virginia  in  the  early  part  of  the  year 
1773.  Graduating  at  Hampden  Sidney  College,  he  studied  med- 
icine, but  before  he  had  graduated  the  barbarities  of  the  Indians 
upon  the  western  frontier  so  excited  his  feelings  that  he  resolved 
to  give  up  his  first  choice  of  a  profession  for  that  of  arms.  His 
guardian  vainly  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  the  project; 
G-eneral  Washington  cordially  approved  of  his  determination, 
and  gave  him  a  commission  as  ensign  of  artillery.  - 

Though  but  nineteen  years  old  when  he  joined  his  corps  at 
Fort  Washington  on  the  Ohio,  he  soon  found  an  opportunity  to 
distinguish  himself.  A  reinforcement  being  ordered  by  Gen.  St. 
Clair  to  proceed  to  Fort  Hamilton,  the  young  ensign  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  command  of  the  party.  The  country  swarmed 
with  Indians,  and  all  the  skill  and  vigilance  which  the  young  of- 
ficer could  command  were  necessary  to  success ;  but  the  expedi- 
tion was  accomplished  in  safety,  and  the  leader  rewarded  in  the 
followingj^ear  (1792)  with  a  lieutenancy.  Victory  favored  first 
one  side,  then  the  other,  in  this  contest  between  the  United  States 
and  the  Indians,  but  the  army  under  General  Wayne,  which  Har- 
rison joined  in  1793,  was  destined  to  close  the  war. 

When,  in  October  of  that  year.  Gen.  Wayne  marched  forward 
to  the  country  of  the  Miami  tribe  of  Indians,  he  sent  a  detach- 
ment to  take  possession  of  the  ground  where  Gen.  St.  Clair,  his 
predecessor  in  command,  had  a"  disastrous  defeat.  Lieutenant 
Harrison  volunteered  for  the  service,  and  was  accepted  by  the 
commander.  Arrived  at  the  fatal  field,  he  took  possession  of  it, 
interred  with  military  honors  tlic  bonps  that  for  two  years  had 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON, 


whitened  the  ground,  and  erected  Fort  Eecovery.  Again,  in  the 
famous  battle  of  the  Fallen  Timbers,did  the  wild  courage  of  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne  animate  his  troops,  and  the  Indians  were  com- 
pletely defeated.  With  the  true  generosity  of  a  hero,  the  gen- 
eral, in  his  official  account  of  the  battle,  compliments  his  young, 
faithful  and  gallant  aide-de-camp,  Lieutenant  Harrison,  as  having 
rendered  him  the  most  essential  service  in  communicating  his 
orders  in  every  direction,  and  for  his  conduct  and  bravery.  The 
consequence  of  this  display  of  courage  and  generous  recognition 
of  it  was  a  promotion,  soon  after  the  close  of  the  campaign,  to 
the  rank  of  captain,  the  command  of  Fort  Washington  being  given 
him. 

Here  he  remained  in  comparative  quiet  until  1798,  when  the 
civil  appointment  of  Secretary  of  the  Northwestern  Territory 
was  given  him ;  and  a  year  later,  on  the  organization  of  a  terri- 
torial government,  he  was  elected  as  the  delegate  to  Congress^ 
Although  holding  the  office  but  one  year,  he  performed  a  most 
important  service  for  the  new  territory,  and  one  which  contrib- 
uted greatly  to  the  speedy  settlement  of  the  west.  This  was  in  se- 
curing the  passage  of  a  bill  permitting  the  sale  of  small  tracts  of 
land,  in  place  of  parcels  of  four  thousand  acres,  which  had  been 
the  least  quantity  obtainable  from  any  but  speculators.  During  his 
term  of  office,  the  territory  was  divided,  and  at  the  expiration 
of  the  year  for  which  he  had  been  elected,  President  Adams  ap- 
pointed him  governor  of  that  part  called  Indiana. 

Fitly  was  the  new  territory  named  the  Country  of  the  Indiana, 
for  in  all  that  vast  expanse,  stretching  westward  to  the  Missis- 
sippi, there  were  but  three  settlements :  Clark's  Grant,  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  acres  in  extent,  at  the  falls  of  the  Ohio ; 
the  old  French  settlement  at  and  around  Yincennes ;  and  a  tract 
of  about  sixty  miles  in  length  bordering  on  the  Mississippi,  from 
Kaskaskia  to  Cahokia,  nearly  opposite  the  thriving  little  town 
of  St.  Louis.  About  five  thousand  souls,  all  told,  comprised  tjio 
population  of  this  territory,  which  now  supports  some  seven  mil 
lions.  The  Indians  were  naturally  hostile,  and  the  incessant  in- 
trigues of  the  British  agents  were  only  too  often  successful  in  in- 
citing them  to  depredations.  Wishing  to  prevent  the  extensive 
settlement  of  the  frontier  provinces,  and  to  secure  a  monopoly 
of  the  fur  trade,  the  British  government  kept  in  its  employ  agents 
who  industriously  set  afloat  among  the  Indians  reports  calculated 
to  excite  a  jealous  iiostility  to  the  Americans.  The  United  States 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON.  i 

government  aimed  to  purchase  of  the  Indians  the  land  needed  for 
settlements,  to  introduce  among  the  savages  the  arts  of  civilized 
life ;  but  the  English  represented  this  as  a  plan  intended  only  to 
enervate  the  natives,  and  leave  them  unfit  for  war.  The  refusal 
to  allow  liquor  to  be  sold  to  them  was  especially  enlarged  upon. 

See  how  good  our  great  father,  King  George,  is  to  you.  He 
loves  his  red  children  so  much  that  he  wishes  them  to  have  plenty 
of  all  good  things,  everything  they  wish  for.  He  tells  us  to  give 
you  plenty  of  rum/' 

Shortly  after  his  appointment,  Gov.  Harrison  was  visited  by 
the  chiefs  of  most  of  the  nations  inhabiting  the  territory  under 
his  rule.  Doleful  was  the  story  that  they  told  of  their  people 
killed,  their  lands  seized  by  the  settlers,  their  game  wantonly 
destroyed,  their  young  men  made  drunk  and  cheated  of  the  skins 
which  were  to  buy  necessary  stores  of  clothing,  arms,  and  am- 
munition for  hunting.  The  governor  could  not  doubt  the  truth 
of  these  complaints,  supported  as  they  were  by  unquestionable 
evidence,  but  the  uncertain  limits  of  his  jurisdiction  rendered  it 
difficult  to  give  the  Indians  satisfaction.  While  many  of  the  tribes 
were  not  disposed  then  to  make  war  upon  the  settlers,  yet  he  ^SiW 
that  the  provocations  of  which  they  spoke  would  powerfully 
operate  in  favor  of  any  European  nation  that  might  declare 
war,  and  the  Indians  would  be  ready,  with  such  protection  anci 
assistance,  for  incursions  upon  the  settlements. 

But  the  town  of  Vincennes  was  daily  visited  by  the  Indians  ii^j 
considerable  numbers,  who,  becoming  intoxicated,  committed 
many  crimes.  Murders  of  their  own  race  occurred  in  the  streets^ 
the  houses  of  the  citizens  were  forced  open,  stock  killed,  and 
fences  broken  down.  The  unprovoked  murder  of  two  citizens 
awoke  revenge ;  the  murderer  was  pursued  and  shot.  Indig- 
nant at  this,  the  tribe  assembled,  waiting  for  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  retaliate,  but  quickly  dispersed  when  the  militia  w^as 
ordered  out. 

Harrison  spared  no  effort  to  conciliate  the  Indians,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  enforce  justice  in  the  whole  territory  under  his 
government.  In  the  period  from  1800  to  1804,  treaties  were  con- 
cluded by  which  nearly  sixty  million  acres  were  sold  to  the  TJni 
ted  States  by  the  Indians.  But  these  vast  purchases  had  aroused 
the  suspicions  of  some  of  the  Indians.  Two  chiefs  of  the  Shaw- 
nees  saw,  like  Pontiac,  to  what  the  Indian  race  was  tending,  and 
were  willing  to  try  much  the  same  plan  in  resisting  thie  fate  that 


.4 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


he  had  tried.  The  "Wild  Cat  springing  on  its  prey''  and  the 
"  Loud  Voice''  are  the  meanings  assigned  to  the  Indian  names 
Tecumseh  and  Elskwatawa,  the  chief  and  the  prophet,  who  now 
sought  to  combine  all  the  western  tribes  in  an  alliance  against 
the  whites. 

Doubt  existed  for  some  time  as  to  the  intentions  of  the  Indian 
brothers,  Gov.  Harrison  being  at  a  loss  to  decide  for  or  against 
their  friendliness  for  many  years  after  the  germ  of  the  union  had 
been  formed.  Whatever  may  have  been  his  desires  later,  the 
earlier  efforts  of  Te- 
cumseh were  directed 
to  the  reformation  of 
his  people,  naturally 
unfitted  for  continuous 
effort  of  any  kind  and 
enervated  by  the  ex- 
cesses into  which  they 
had  fallen  during  their 
contact  with  the  whites. 
So  far  had  they  degen- 
erated from  the  an- 
cient standard,  that 
Harrison  asserts  in  his 
official  letters  to  Wash- 
ington, that  he  could 
tell  at  a  glance  an  In- 
dian living  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  town  from 
one  living  at  a  consid- 
erable distance.  The 
effort  to  reform  his 
people  led  the  savage  statesman,  Tecumseh,  to  desire  such  a  union 
as  Pontiac  had  wished — one  which  would  enable  the  Indians  to 
successfully  resist  the  encroachments  of  the  whites. 

Nor  was  Tecumseh  the  only  one  of  his  nation  who  held  exalted 
views  of  the  destiny  of  the  Shawnees.  At  a  conference  held  by 
the  chiefs  of  the  various  tribes  and  Gov.  Harrison,  in  the  yeai 
1803,  one  of  them  gave  vent  to  this  wonderful  story : 

The  Master  of  Life  was  himself  an  Indian.  lie  made  the 
Shawnees  before  any  others  of  the  human  race.  They  sprang 
from  his  brain,  and  he  gave  them  all  the  knowled^re  he  pos- 


GENERAL    ^VILLIAM  HENRr  HARRISuN. 


IJ7 


sessed,  After  he  had  made  the  Shawnees,  he  made  the  French 
and  English  out  of  his  hreast,  the  Dutch  out  of  his  feet,  and  the 
Long-knives  (Americans)  out  of  his  hands/' 

An  Indian  orator's  history  of  the  creation  is  usually  invented 
for  the  occasion,  and  this  one  proceeded  to  apply  the  facts  he  had 
gravely  stated  by  saying  that  since  all  the  knowledge  that  the 
whites  possessed  was  really  the  property  of  the  Shawnees,  from 
whom  the  Master  of  Life  had  borrowed  it  for  the  whites  for 
a  little  while,  the  white  people  had  really  no  right  to  the  articles 
which  this  knowledge  enabled  them  to  make — all  their  blankets, 
beads,  guns,  etc.,  rightfully  belonged  to  the  Shawnees. 

Tecumseh,  the  son  of  a  Shawnee  warrior  and  a  Creek  squaw, 
was  born  about  the  year  1770,  some  authorities  placing  the  date 
as  early  as  1768,  others  as  late  as  1771.  The  prophet,  sometime? 
called  his  twin  brother,  was  probably  younger.  From  his  boy- 
hood the  elder  had  a  passion  for  war;  the  sham  battle-field  being 
the  scene  of  his  usual  pastimes,  and  activity,  strength  and  skill 
distinguished  him  in  the  mimic  fights  in  which  he  was  always 
a  leader.  "When  the  day  closed,  and  such  amusements  were  no 
longer  possible,  the  boys  would  gather  back  of  the  warriors  who 
v/ere  clustered  around  the  camp-fire,  telling  stories  of  the  occur- 
rouees  of  the  day.  The  Revolutionary  War  formed  the  main 
subject  until  his  manhood  had  nearly  arrived  ;  and  after  that 
war  closed,  the  fierce  border  warfare  furnished  accounts  of  per- 
petual skirmishing  and  scalping.  He  eagerly  drank  in  the  words 
of  the  old  chiefs  regarding  the  times  before  the  advent  of  the 
whites,  and  about  their  broken  treaties  and  promises. 

In  his  first  battle,  which  occurred  w^hen  he  was  sixteen  or  eigh- 
teen years  old,  Tecumse^h  is  said  to  have  fled  in  fright  from  the 
field  of  battle;  but  in  the  second  he  fought  like  a  young  lion, 
completely  wiping  out  the  stain  of  cowardice.  This  was  an  attack 
upon  some  flat-boats  descending  the  Ohio,  and  all  the  boatmen 
were  killed  but  one,  who  was  reserved  for  the  torture.  Strangely 
enough,  since  it  could  not  have  been  an  unusual  occurrence,  the 
young  warrior  had  never  before  witnessed  such  a  scene.  Filled 
with  horror,  he  remonstrated  against  the  practice  with  such  elo 
quence  that  his  hearers  agreed  that  they  would  never  burn  a  - 
other  prisoner.  Such  was  the  power  that  his  great  mind  had  a\ 
ready  gained  over  his  people. 

One  great  influence  that  Tecumseh  used  over  the  tribe  was  i 

superstitious  one.    The  prophet  is  not  an  uncommon  character 
21 


x40 


JENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


among  the  Indians,  who  are  exceedingly  superstitious;  and  th©^ 
believe  most  firmly  in  his  power  to  foretell  events  and  to  avert 
threatened  misfortunes.  Elskwatawa  shared,  to  some  extent,  in 
the  great  talents  of  his  brother,  but,  to  reverse  the  expression 
of  an  old  author:  His  virtues  another's,  his  faults  were  his 
own/'  He  was  neither  courageous  nor  truthful,  but  cunning, 
sharp  and  boastful.  Even  more  eloquent  than  the  chief,  his  man- 
ner was  said  to  be  more  graceful  than  that  of  any  other  Indian ; 
the  less  said  about  his  personal  beauty,  the  better.  There  can  be 
no  doubt,  however,  that,  like  Tecumseh,  he  really  sought  the 
good  of  his  people.  With  all  his  vanity,  deception,  superstition 
and  craft,  he  doubtless  believed  that  he  was  advocating  measures 
for  their  good. 

In  November,  1805,  Elskwatawa  first  formally  declared  him- 
self a  prophet  in  a  speech  made  to  an  assembly  consisting  of 
many  of  his  own  nation  and  of  the  kindred  tribes,  Wyandots, 
Ottawas  and  Senecas,  in  northern  Ohio.  Professing  to  have  been 
to  heaven,  he  denounced  two  practices  common  among  the  In- 
dians, witch-craft  and  drunkenness,  and  so  great  was  the  ascen- 
dancy which  his  eloquence  obtained  over  them  that  he  prevailed 
upon  many  of  them  to  abstain  from  strong  drink.  In  this,  Te- 
cumseh's  influence  is  seen,  but  the  persecutions  for  witchcraft 
were  all  the  Prophet's  work,  resulting  in  many  executions,  even 
of  chiefs. 

So  far  did  he  go  in  this  matter,  supported  by  the  superstitious 
terrors  of  his  tribe,  that  Gov.  Harrison  was  obliged  to  send  a  let- 
ter of  remonstrance  to  the  Delawares,  urging  them,  in  the  name 
of  the  Seventeen  Pires  (States),  to  require  of  this  prophet  some 
proof  that  his  pretensions  were  true.  But  this  did  not  accomplish 
the  end  that  he  desired;  for  a  time,  indeed,  the  persecutions 
'^ed,  but  the  influence  of  Elskwatawa  was  increased  by  his  ac- 
cepting ^-ov.  Harrison's  challenge  to  work  miracles.  Hearing 
by  chance  trum  a  white  man  that  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  would  oc- 
cur on  a  certain  day,  he  boldly  announced  that  on  such  a  day  he 
would  prove  his  supernatural  power  by  making  darkness  come 
over  the  sun.  At  the  appointed  time,  the  Prophet,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  his  assembled  tribe  at  m3d-day,  cried  out,  when  all 
grew  dark  around  them : 

Did  I  not  prophesy  truly  ?  Behold !  Darkness  has  come  over 
the  sun,  as  I  told  you/' 

This  established  him  more  firmly  in  the  esteem  of  the  tribes, 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


14? 


and  his  influence  increased.  About  a  year  later,  in  April,  1807, 
ne  had  gathered  around  him  nearly  four  hundred  Indians,  greatly 
excited  by  religious  fanaticism  and  ready  to  join  in  any  enter- 
prise into  which  the  brothers  should  lead  them.  Great  alarm 
was  felt  all  along  the  border  when  the  strength  of  the  Indians 
became  known,  and  their  designs  appeared  to  be  suspicious.  In 
order  to  learn  their  object  in  gathering  so  many  warriors  around 
them,  the  agent  at  Fort  Wayne  sent  a  half-breed  Shawnee  with 
a  request  that  Tecumseh  and  the  Prophet,  attended  by  two  other 
chiefs,  should  visit  him,  that  he  might  read  to  them  a  letter  just 

received  from  their  great  fa- 
ther.   The  message  was  deliv 
ered  in  council,  but  the  great 
chief  did   not  deign  to  ask 
advice. 

Go  back  to  Fort  Wayne, 
and  tell  Captain  Wells  that  my 
council  fire  is  kindled  on  the 
spot  appointed  by  the  Great 
Spirit,  and  that  here  I  will  heai 
any  message  that  the  great 
father  in  Washington  may  send 
me.  If  he  has  anything  to  say 
to  me  from  the  great  father,  I 
will  expect  him  here  in  six 
days.'' 

l!^or  would  he  abate  an  inch 
of  his  royal  dignity,  and  Cap- 
tain Wells'  letter  remained  un- 
read. The  excitement  among  the  Indians  increased,  and  by  the 
first  of  May,  it  was  estimated,  fifteen  hundred  Indians  had  visit- 
ed the  Prophet,  coming  from  all  quarters.  Many  came  from  a 
great  distance,  and  the  great  assembling  of  councils,  the  mes- 
sengers sent  from  tribe  to  tribe  with  belts  of  wampum  and  with 
pipes,  showed  that  some  uncommon  movement  w^as  on  foot.  It 
was  ascertained  that  English  agents  were  busily  at  work,  but 
all  plans  were  studiously  concealed  from  the  Americans. 

Several  councils  were  held  during  this  year  between  the  two- 
races,  the  Indians  insisting  that  the  treaty  made  at  Greenville 
about  twelve  years  before  did  not  prescribe  the  boundaries  whicl) 
the  white  men  claimed.    Tecumseh's  fiery  eloquence,  defying  the 


148 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


skill  Oi  the  interpreter,  traced  the  history  of  the  ^vhite  man's 
dealings  with  the  Indians,  and  in  its  object  and  effect  only  stop- 
ped short  of  breaking  up  the  council ;  his  speeches  were,  as  he 
had  intended,  repeated  at  every  camp-fire. 

In  1808",  great  numbers  of  Indians  came  flocking  from  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Great  Lakes  to  visit  the  Prophet,  and  prolonged 
their  visit  until  their  provisions  were  entirely  exhausted.  Gov- 
ernor Harrison  thovght  it  prudent,  as  well  as  benevolent,  to  sup- 
ply them  with  food  from  the  public  stores  at  Fort  Wayne.  To 
the  Indian  agent  who  carried  out  this  order,  it  did  not  appear 
uLat  the  followers  of  the  Prophet  had  any  hostile  intentions  re- 
garding the  Americans ;  it  was  simply  a  religious  reformation 
that  he  was  preaching.  But  succeeding  this  reformation,  in  the 
following  year,  came  the  political  movement,  when  Tecumseh's 
importance  became  greater  than  his  brother's. 

In  the  spring  of  1808,  the  Pottawatomies  and  the  Kickapoos 
granted  Tecumseh  and  Elskwatawa  a  tract  of  land  on  the  Tip- 
pecanoe, one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wabash.  Here,  with  about 
forty  Shawnees,  and  something  less  than  a  hundred  Indians  from 
other  tribes,  they  established  themselves  in  spite  of  the  remon- 
strances of  the  Delawares  and  the  Miamis,  and  the  village  known 
as  Prophet's  Town  was  built.  In  June,  having  determined  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Gov.  Harrison,  the  Prophet  sent  a  messenger  to 
say  that  he  and  Tecumseh  wished  to  live  in  peace  with  the 
whites.  Having  thus  paved  the  way  for  a  reception,  he  proceeded 
to  Vincennes  in  August. 

Governor  Harrison  had  noticed  the  evil  effect  of  liquor  upon 
the  red  man,  and  in  his  communications  to  the  Department  at 
Washington  we  find  frequent  remonstrances  against  allowing  it 
be  sold  to  him.  But  the  love  of  gain  was  uncontrollable,  and  the 
traders  continued  to  sell  the  liquid  fire,  which  soon  kindled  a 
flame  that  threatened  to  consume  the  border  settlements.  When, 
therefore,  he  saw  that  Elskwatawa  really  desired  that  whisky 
should  be  kept  from  the  Indians,  and  that  he  had  succeeded  in 
reforming  many  of  them  in  this  particular,  the  governor  was  dis- 
posed to  form  a  very  favorable  opinion  of  the  Prophet. 

In  a  long  speech  to  Gov.  Harrison  he  detailed  the  system  of 
religion  of  which  he  professed  to  be  the  exponent,  and  narrated 
his  experience  during  the  three  years  that  he  had  endeavored  to 
benefit  his  people ;  closing  with  the  Indian's  usual  conclusion  to 
a  speech  made  to  the  white  man,  a  request  for  gifts.    Beneath  all 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


149 


his  ignorance,  persecuting  fanaticism,  and  imposture,  Gov.  Har- 
rison thought  he  saw  a  real  ambition  to  be  a  benefactor  io  the 
Indians,  and  respected  him  for  it.  With  a  supply  of  provisions 
the  Prophet  returned  to  the  Tippecanoe,  having  completely  out- 
witted the  governor. 

But  while  Elskwatawa  thus  appeared  to  be  the  mainspring  of 
this  movement,  there  was  a  yet  greater  man  in  the  background. 
A  thousand  years  ago,  the  aged  seer  said  to  the  prince  whose 
throne  had  been  usurped  by  a  warrior  of  renown : 

^^Know  how  to  w^ait,  and  the  kingdom  will  come  to  thee.'' 
This  was  Tecumseh's  great  power — the  ability  to  wait  the 
proper  place  for  the  execution  of  his  plans.  When  this  time 
came,  he  calmly  set  aside  the  prophet,  and  asserted  his  own  suj)e- 
rior  qualities  as  a  leader.  Even  his  brother's  fame  and  power 
were  made  to  serve  his  own  purpose,  to  further  his  plans  for  form- 
ing a  vast  confederacy  of  the  Indian  tribes,  which  should  restrain 
the  whites  from  farther  encroachment,  perhaps  even  to  drive 
them  to  the  country  east  of  the  Alleghanies.  For  three  or  four 
years  he  traveled  all  over  the  country,  visiting  the  various  tribes, 
and  exerting  all  the  magic  of  his  eloquence  to  induce  them  to 
join  the  league. 

In  April,  1809,  the  Indian  agent  stationed  at  Fort  Wayne  in- 
formed Gov.  Harrison  that  he  had  heard  the  Prophet  had  ordered 
the  Indians  to  take  up  arms  to  exterminate  the  white  settlers  at 
Vincenncsand  along  the  banks  of  the  Ohio;  this  being  the  order 
of  the  Great  Spirit,  who  would  utterly  destroy  those  who  ven- 
tured to  disobey  them.    This  was^probably  an  ambitious  scheme 
of  the  Prophet's  own,  during  Tecumseh's  absence.    Only  a  hun- 
dred warriors  were  actually  with  him,  but  reliable  information 
came  that  four  or  five  times  that  number  were  within  fifty  miles 
of  headquarters,  awaiting  only  the  signal  to  fall  upon  the  whites 
He  therefore  immed''-"^"^  j  organized  two  companies  of  voluntee 
militia,  and  garrisoned  Fort  Knox,  two  males  from  Vinccnnej] 
This,  and  similar  energetic  measures,  appeared  to  frighten  th 
Prophet,  who  was  never  very  courageous,  and  who,  like  all  In- 
dians, would  not  strike  at  an  enemy  who  was  on  his  guard ;  so 
the  threatened  attack  was  never  made. 

In  July  h^  visited  the  governor  at  Vinccnnes,  with  a  train  of 
about  forty  warriors,  and  n.eekly  but  earnestly  denied  any  part 
in  the  plot;  claiming  to  have  actually  dissuaded  the  tribes  from 
the  hostilities  they  had  planned.    B]i+  Gov.  Harrison  no  longer 


150 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


believed  in  the  Prophet's  sincerity.  A  few  months  before,  he  had 
solemnly  promised  to  make  known  to  the  Americans  any  plots 
which  might  be  formed  against  them,  and  he  now  admitted  hav- 
ing been  pressed  both  by  other  tribes  and  by  the  British  to  join 
in  a  league  against  the  United  States. 

The  cloud  darkened  over  the  scattered  and  exposed  settlements 
in  Indiana.  News  came  that  the  followers  of  Tecumseh  and  the 
Prophet  numbered,  now  four  hundred,  now  eight  hundred,  and 
that  as  many  more  would  respond  to  the  Prophet's  call.  The 
Indians  refused  to  buy  powder  and  shot  from  the  American  trad- 
ers, hinting  that  they  could  get  plenty  from  the  British  without 
paying  for  it.  The  strength  of  the  league  continued  to  increase, 
and  the  Wyandots,  greatly  esteemed  among  the  other  tribes  for 
their  wisdom  and  valor,  came  into  the  union.  The  great  belt, 
the  symbol  of  union  between  the  tribes  in  the  previous  war,  was 
given  into  the  keeping  of  this  latest  accession,  who  also  pos- 
sessed the  original  copy  of  the  treaty  of  Greenville. 

In  the  meantime  Tecumseh  had  been  among  the  Shawnees  on 
the  Auglaize,  tr3ung  to  induce  them  to  further  his  scheme;  but 
the  old  chief.  Black  Hoof,  the  head  of  the  Shawnee  nation, 
resolutely  opposed  his  efforts.  Present  at  the  defeat  of  Braddock, 
fifty-five  years  before,  he  had  seen  too  clearly,  in  the  course  of 
his  long  life,  how  useless  were  all  attempts  of  Indians  to  drive 
back  the  whites;  he  had  signed  the  treaty  of  Greenville,  and 
from  that  time  actively  opposed  all  war  with  the  settlers.  Such 
was  the  ascendency  which  his  office  and  his  personal  character 
gave  him  over  his  people  that  all  Tecumseh's  eloquence  was  in 
vain,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  tribe  remained  faithful  to  the 
treaty. 

In  June,  a  deputation  of  the  friendly  Pottawatomies  visited 
Gov.  Harrison,  and  gave  him  information  regarding  ine  Prophet's 
plans.  Every  exertion  was  to  be  made  by  !'-*m  to  gain  the  sup- 
port of  the  tribes  west  of  the  Mississippi;  and  that  secured,  De- 
troit, Fort  Wayne,  Chicago,  St.  Louis  and  Vincennes  were  all  to 
be  surprised.  He  had  failed  in  his  attempt  to  influence  some  of 
the  nearer  tribes,  by  reason  of  the  arguments  which  the  Dela- 
wares,  friendly  to  the  Americans,  used  to  these  whose  decision 
still  hung  in  the  balance.  Every  effort  was  made  by  the  Prophet 
to  secure  the  assistance  of  the  tribes,  more  than  one  execution 
for  witchcraft  being  referred  to  his  desire  to  frighten  the  chiefs 
into  joining  him. 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 

Immediately  upon  the  receipt  of  this  information,  Gov.  Har- 
rison sent  two  confidential  agents  to  Tippecanoe  to  discover  the 
designs  of  the  Prophet.  Kindly  received  by  Elskwatawa,  the 
following  conversation  ensued : 

The  governor/'  said  the  agent,  Mr.  Dubois,  has  seen  that 
the  Indians  are  unfriendly  to  the  Americans,  and  that  they  are 
combining  for  a  purpose  that  he  does  not  know.  Why  does  Elsk- 
watawa  hate  the  United  States,  the  people  of  his  great  father  at 
Washington  ?  Why  has  he  gathered  so  many  warriors  together, 
and  armed  them  with  new  rifles?  The  Long-Knives  are  not  in 
the  dark  ;  they  can  see  what  he  has  been  doing,  and  their  war- 
riors are  arming  themselves  and  getting  ready  to  fight,  both  here 
and  in  Kentucky.  But  they  do  not  wish  to  fight,  unless  the  In- 
dians compel  them  to  do  so  ;  all  this  is  for  defense,  and  Elskwa- 
tawa  and  his  people  will  live  in  peace  as  long  as  they  do  not  plot 
mischief  to  the  white  man/' 

"  The  Great  Spirit  has  fixed  the  spot  for  the  Indian  to  kindle 
his  camp-fire,  and  he  dare  not  go  to  any  other.  Elskwatawa's 
and  his  brother  Tecumseh's  must  be  on  the  banks  of  the  Tippe- 
canoe, or  the  Great  Spirit  would  be  angry  with  them.  Evil  birds 
have  carried  false  news  to  my  father,  the  governor.  Let  him 
not  believe  that  Elskwatawa  the  Prophet  wishes  to  make  war  up- 
on him  and  his  people;  let  him  not  listen  to  the  evil  birds  that 
carry  false  news.'' 

How  has  the  great  father  at  Washington  injured  your  peo- 
ple ?    Say  how  it  has  been  done,  and  you  will  be  righted." 

The  Indians  have  been  cheated  out  of  their  lands  ;  the  white 
men  have  bought  from  the  chiefs  of  the  towns,  who  had  no  right 
to  sell.    Only  the  whole  tiibe  can  sell  lands." 

Mr.  Dubois  told  him  that  he  ought  to  go  to  Vincennes  and  pre- 
sent his  complaints  to  the  governor,  but  this  he  refused  to  do,  al- 
leging that  he  had  been  badly  treated  on  the  former  visit.  The 
agent,  after  a  little  more  talk,  of  small  interest,  went  back  to  re- 
port to  the  governor.  Soon  after  this  visit,  four  canoes,  filled 
with  the  Prophet's  followers,  descended  the  Wabash  ;  these  In- 
dians, stopping  at  a  settlement  a  little  above  Vincennes,  attend- 
ed a  Shaker  meeting  bn  Sunday,  behaving  with  great  propriety 
while  there,  b-ut  winding  up  their  Sabbath  by  stealing  five  horses, 

A  second  messenger  to  the  Prophet  was  less  kindly  received 
than  Mr.  Dubois  had  been.  Conducted  into  the  presence  of  Elsk- 
watawa and  his  principal  men^  he  was  left  istanding  at  a  distance 


152 


GENERAL  WILLI/       HENRY  HARRISON. 


of  about  ten  feet  from  where  they  were  sitting.  The  Prophet 
looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments  without  speaking,  and  appar- 
ently without  recognizing  him.  At  last,  in  a  tone  expressive  of 
anger  and  scorn,  he  said  : 

Why  do  you  come  here?  Brouilette  was  here;  he  was  a  spy. 
Dubois  was  here;  he  was  a  spy.  ^Tow  you  have  come;  you  are  a 
spy.    There  is  your  grave. 

From  a  lodge  near  by  issued  the  majestic  form  of  Tecumseh, 
who  said,  in  a  cold  and  haughty  tone : 

"  Your  life  is  in  no  danger.  Say  why  you  have  come  among  us.'* 

The  messenger,  in  reply,  read  a  letter  from  Gov.  Harrison,  urg- 
ing upon  them  the  necessity  of  submitting  to  the  government. 

^^I  know  your  warriors  are  brave,''  ho  said,  ^^but  ours  are  not 
less  so.  What  can  a  few  brave  w^arriors  do  against  the  innumer- 
a,ble  warriors  of  the  Seventeen  Fires?  Our  blue-coats  are  more 
numerous  than  you  can  count;  our  hunters  are  like  the  leaves 
Df  the  forest,  or  the  grains  of  sand  on  the  Wabash.  Do  not  think 
that  the  red-coats  can  protect  you;  they  are  not  able  to  protect 
themselves.  They  do  not  think  of  going  to  w  ar  with  us.  If  they 
did,  you  would  in  a  few  moons  see  our  flag  wave  over  all  the  forts 
of  Canada.  What  reason  have  you  to  complain  of  the  Seventeen 
Fires?  Have  they  taken  anything  from  you?  Have  they  ever 
riolated  the  treaties  made  with  the  red  men  ?  You  say  they  have 
purchased  lands  from  those  who  had  no  right  to  sell  them.  Show 
that  this  is  so  and  the  land  will  be  instantly  restored.  Show  us 
the  rightful  owners.  I  have  full  power  to  arrange  this  business; 
but  if  you  would  rather  carry  your  complaints  before  your  great 
father  at  Washington,  you  shall  be  indulged." 

Pleased  with  the  governor's  speech,  Tecumseh  said  that  he 
would  now  go  to  Vincennes  and  show  the  governor  that  he  had 
been  listening  to  bad  men  when  he  was  told  that  the  Indians 
wished  to  make  war.  He  had  never  been  to  see  the  governor, 
but  remembered  him  as  a  very  young  man  riding  beside  Gen. 
Wayne.  Thirty  of  his  principal  men,  he  said,  would  attend  him, 
but  the  party  would  probably  be  larger,  as  many  of  the  young 
men  would  wish  to  go.  ^Notwithstanding  the  request  which  ths 
governor  made,  on  hearing  this,  that  but  a  few  should  come,  four 
hundred  descended  the  Wabash  on  the  twelfth  of  August.  Paint- 
ed in  the  most  terrific  manner,  they  were  well  prepared  for  war 
in  case  of  an  attack. 

Governor  Harrison  had  made  arrangementL  for  holding  the 


GENERAL  WILLI  \M  HENRY  HARRISON. 


153 


council  on  the  portico  of  his  own  house,  and  here,  attended  by 
civil  and  military  officers,  a  small  guard  of  soldiers,  and  many 
of  the  citizens  of  Vincennes,  he  awaited  the  arrival  of  Tecumseh. 
It  was  the  fifteenth  of  August,  1810.  At  the  hour  appointed  for 
the  council,  Tecumseh,  attended  by  about  forty  of  his  warriors, 
made  his  appearance,  with  much  dancing  and  various  curious 
incantations  by  the  Prophet.  Advancing  within  thirty  or  forty 
yards  of  the  house,  the  chief  suddenly  halted,  as  if  awaiting 
isome  movement  on  the  part  of  the  governor.    An  interpreter 


TECUMSEH. 


was  sent  to  invite  him  and  his  followers  to  the  portico,  but 
Tecumseh  declined  this  invitation,  saying  that  he  thought  a 
grove  nearby,  to  which  he  pointed  as  he  spoke,  was  a  more  sui- 
table place.  The  governor  objected  that  there  were  no  seats 
there.  Tecumseh  replied  that  the  Indians,  children  of  the  earth, 
loved  to  repose  upon  the  bosom  of  their  mother,  and  the  governor 
yielding  the  point,  seats  were  placed  for  the  white  men  and  the 
.Indians  lay  upon  the  grass. 

Tecumseh  opened  the  council  by  saying  that  he  was  determin- 
ed to  resist  every  cession  of  land  unless  made  by  all  the  tribes 
acting  in  concert;  that  while  he  had  no  intention  of  making  war 
upon  the  Uniffeli  States,  it  was  his  unalterable  resolution  to  take 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON.  155 

a  stand,  and  resolutely  oppose  the  further  intrusion  of  the  whites 
upon  the  Indian  lands.  He  concluded  with  a  brief  but  passionate 
recital  of  the  wrongs  that  his  people  had  suiFered  at  the  hands  ot 
the  white  men  for  the  last  fifty  years  ;  a  story  that  powerfully 
appealed  to  the  passions  of  his  followers.  The  governor  replied 
in  pac  fic  terms  to  this  address,  and  sat  down  while  his  speech,  in 
turn,  was  being  translated  to  the  Indians.  But  the  interpreter 
had  ot  proceeded  far  when  Tecumseh  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
with  .  fiery  eloquence  that  made  itself  manifest  in  look  and  ges- 
ture, iS  well  as  in  words,  addressed  the  council.  Ignorant  of  the 
Shawnee  tongue,  Gov.  Harrison  supposed  that  he  was  making 
some  explanation,  or  advancing  some  argument  in  support  of 
what  had  been^aid  ;  but  others  warned  him.  Winnemac,  a  friend- 
ly Indian,  who  lay  on  the  grass  beside  him,  busied  himself  in  re- 
newing the  priming  of  his  pistol,  concealing  both  weapon  and 
action  from  the  Indians,  but  evidently  desirous  of  the  governor's 
notice.  Gen.  Gibson,  who  understood  the  Shawnee  language, 
said  to  Lieutenant  Jennings : 

"Those  fellows  intend  mischief;  you  had  better  bring  up  the 
guaid.^' 

At  that  moment,  the  followers  of  Tecumseh  sprang  from  the 
grass,  seizing  their  tomahawks  and  w^i'-clubs,  and  turning  their 
eyes  upon  the  governor.  Hastily  drawing  his  sword,  Harrison 
stood  on  the  defensive,  his  attendant  citizens  arming  themselves 
with  clubs  and  brickbats,  the  few  soldiers  being  of  course  better 
prepared.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  either  side,  until,  as  the 
guard  came  up,  ready  to  fire,  the  governor  ordered  them  not  to 
do  so.  Turning  to  the  interpreter  for  information,  he  was  told 
that  Tecumseh  had  interrupted  him,  declaring  that  all  that  the 
governor  had  said  was  false,  and  that  he  and  the  Seventeen  Fires 
had  cheated  and  imposed  upon  the  Indians.  Gov.  Harrison  se- 
verely reproved  Tecumseh,  saying  that  he  would  hold  no  further 
communication  with  him  ;  that  he  must  immediately  leave  Vin- 
cennes;  he  had  come  under  the  protection  of  a  council  fire,  and 
therefore  might  return  in  safety. 

There  being  now  no  doubt  of  the  purposes  of  the  two  brothers, 
Gov.  Harrison  proceeded  to  prepare  for  the  contest  by  calling 
out  the  militia  and  making  a  judicious  disposition  of  the  regular 
troops.  But  it  was  more  than  a  year  after  befbre  hostilities  actu- 
ally began.  Tecumseh  was  still  engaged  in  the  effort  to  strength- 
en his  cause  by  adding  other  tribes  tx>  the  league,  and  in  the  sum- 


I5e 


OEI^ERaL  WILLIAVI  HENRY  HARRISON. 


mer  of  1811  proceeded  to  the  south,  5n  order,  as  was  believed, 
to  secure  the  assistance  of  the  Creeks.  Gov.  Harrison  was 
awaiting  reinforcements ;  tb^se  having  arrived,  he  set  out  towards 
Tippecanoe,  to  break  up,  if  necessary,  the  rendezvous  of  the 
Prophet.  On  the  Wabash,  sixty  or  sixty-five  miles  above  Vin- 
cennes,  he  erected  a  fort,  which,  by  the  request  of  the  sol  liers, 
he  called  Fort  Harrison.  Friendly  Indians  brought  accounts  which 
left  no  doubt  that  he  had  acted  wisely  in  leading  this  exped  tion 
into  the  enemy'^  country,  and  one  of  hi^  sentinels  was  severely 
wounded  by  a  straggling  party  of  Indians. 

Advancing  still  farther,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Yermillion  Eiver 
he  built  a  block-house  to  protect  his  boats  and  heavy  baggage, 
and  proceeded  thence  to  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Prophet's 
-town.  He  was  desirous  of  attacking  this  as  soon  as  possible,  be-* 
cause  he  knew  that  Tecumseh  might  return  any  day,  although  but 
one-fourth  of  the  year  had  expired  that  he  had  fixed  as  the  pe- 
riod of  his  absence.  At  this  point  he  was  met  by  ambassadors, 
who,  at  his  request,  on  his  assurance  that  he  had  no  hostile  in- 
tentions, if  the  Indians  would  keep  to  the  treaties,  showed  him  a 
suitable  place  for  a  camp.  He  found  the  place  admirably  adapt- 
ed for  regular  troops  who  were  to  be  opposed  to  enemies  fight- 
ing in  the  same  way,  but  affording^great  facilities  for  the  guarded 
approach  of  savages.  A  truce  had  been  agreed  on,  to  last  until 
the  next  morning,  and  trusting  partly  to  this,  partly  to  vigilance, 
he  made  his  pi  v^parations  for  the  night. 

It  was  a  piece  of  dry  oak  land,  rising  about  ten  feet  above  the 
level  of  a  marshy  prairie  that  stretched  towards  the  Indian 
town,  and  nearly  twice  that  height  above  a  similar  prairie  on 
the  other  side,  across  which  sluggishly  flowed  a  small  stream, 
its  course  marked  by  willows  and  brush-wood.  Towards  the  left, 
this  peninsula  of  high  land  widened  considerably,  but  narrowed 
rapidly  to  the  right,  where,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
from  the  right  flank  of  the  little  army,  it  came  to  an  abrupt 
termination.  ."5ere  about  seven  hundred  men  were  disposed  on 
the  night  of  Nc  v.  6,  1811 ;  the  order  of  encampment  was  the  or- 
der of  battle,  each  man  sleeping  opposite  his  post  in  the  line. 
Notwithstanding  the  truce,  an  attack  was  fully  expected,  nor 
was  the  commander  disappointed. 

Tecumseh  had  left  absolute  orders  that  war  was  to  be  avoided 
during  his  absence,  but  the  Prophet  was  not  disposed  to  obey 
fiuoh  directions  under  the  presentcircumstances.    He  had  jealous- 


167 


ly  watched  the  decline  of  his  own  power  and  the  rise  of  his  bro- 

ther's,  and  perhaps  wished  to  re-establish  himself,  by  a  victory 
over  the  common  enemy,  in  the  esteem  of  his  people.  Perhaps 
he  was  urged  too  strongly  by  the  chiefs  around  him.  We  cannot 
now  tell  what  motives  actuated  him.  Surrounded  by  impetuous 
warriors,  the  flower  of  the  Winnebago  braves,  worked  up  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  fanatical  zeal,  more  fierce  and  cruel  than  ever 
Indians  had  been  before,  and  in  no  way  inferior  to  Gov.  Harri- 
son's force,  is  it  any  wonder  that  Tecumseh  was  disobeyed  ? 

Early  in  the  evening  the  Indians  held  a  council  and  settled  up- 
on a  plan.  The  chiefs  were  to  meet  the  whites  in  council  the 
next  day,  and  agree  to  all  of  Harrison's  proposals  ;  retiring  then 
to  where  their  warriors  were  stationed.  Two  Indians  were  to 
remain  behind  and  assassinate  the  governor.  After  that,  the 
general  battle  would  begin,  as  the  attack  upon  the  governoi 
would  be  the  signal  for  his  troops  to  fight.  At  the  very  summil 
of  his  importance,  Elskwatawa  boasted  loudly  of  his  power  over 
life  and  death;  concocting  some  strange  preparation  and  saying 
outlandish  incantations  over  it,  he  poured  it  in  equal  quantities 
upon  two  small  boughs  from  a  neighboring  tree,  and  then  inform- 
ed the  warriors  that  one  half  of  Harrison's  army  was  dead,  and 
the  other  half  crazy,  so  that  it  wouM  be  a  small  matter  for  the  In- 
dians to  finish  the  work  of  destruction  with  their  tomahawks. 

The  night  was  dark  and  cloudy,  a  drizzling  rain  setting  in 
about  midnight.  Perhaps  it  was  the  weather  that  made  them 
change  their  plan,  since  such  a  night  was  admirably  suited  to  the 
second  which  they  adopted  ;  certain  it  is  that  before  four  o'clock 
on  the  morning  of  the  seventh,  the  Pfophet's  whole  force  was 
creeping  silently  through  the  long,  wet  grass,  upon  the  sentinels 
of  the  American  camp. 

It  was  Gov.  Harrison's  custom  to  awake  the  troops  an  hour  be- 
fore daybreak,  the  whole  force  remaining  under  arms  until  the 
sun  rose.  A  little  after  four  he  rose,  and  was  pulling  on  his  boots 
before  the  fire,  conversing  with  some  of  his  ofiicers — in  two  min- 
utes the  signal  for  calling  out  the  men  would  have  been  given,^ — 
when  suddenly  a  single  shot  was  fired,  followed  by  that  wild 
yell  which  was  the  night-mare  of  all  who  slept  in  the  Indian 
country.  The  shot  had  been  fired  by  a  sentinel  as  he  discovered 
an  Indian  creeping  up  to  the  camp  ;  the  yell  was  but-the  prelude 
to  a  thousand  others. 

The  guard  gave  way  at  the  point  of  attack,  but  the  men  who 


158 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


had  been  sleeping  on  their  arms  were  immediately  prepared  to 
receive  the  Indians  bravely ;  though  the  suddenness  of  the  attack 
might  have  created  a  panic  among  veterans,  and  only  one  man 
in  twenty  there  had  ever  been  under  fire  before.  The  camp-fires 
were  put  out,  that  their  light  might  not  assist  the  Indians,  and  in 
the  terrible  darkness  the  battle  raged  on  all  sides.  Elskwatawa 
had  prophesied  that  the  American  bullets  would  rebound  from 
the  bodies  of  the  Indians,  and  that  while  all  would  be  thick  dark- 
ness to  their  enemies,  they  would  be  enabled  to  see  clearly.  Foi 
some  reason,  however,  he  did  not  personally  try  the  truth  of 
his  prophecies  by  engaging  in  the  fight;  unwilling  "  to  attest  at 
once  the  rival  powers  of  a  sham  prophecy  and  a  real  American 
bullet  stationing  himself  on  a  small  hill  near  at  hr.nd,  he  chant- 
ed a  war-song,  presiding,  like  the  evil  genius  of  the  Indians,  over 
the  battle  in  the  darkness.  To  the  messengers  that  came  to  tell 
him  that,  despite  his  assurances,  his  followers  were  falling,  he 
said :  ^ 

"  Tell  them  to  keep  on  fighting,  and  it  will  be  as  the  Prophet 
has  said.'' 

With  a  determined  courage  that  was  rare  with  them,  the  In. 
dians  fought  openly,  charging  bravely  upon  the  bayonets,  and 
quite  abandoning  their  usual  practice.  The  battle  lasted  until  a 
little  after  daylight,  one  last  furious  charge  of  the  soldiery  put 
ting  the  Indians  to  flight.  Less  than  a  mon  th  after  this  great  bat 
tie,  Harrison  wrote  that  the  frontiers  had  never  enjoyed  more 
perfect  repose.  Tippecanoe  was  the  name  which,  in  commemora- 
tion of  this  victory,  was  long  bestowed  upon  the  successful  lead- 
er, whose  great  military  talents  were  soon  after  officially  recog- 
nized by  his  appointment  to  the  position  of  commander-in-chief 
over  all  the  forces  in  the  west  and  northwest. 

Nor  was  the  victory  due  mainly  to  the  subordinate  officers  and 
the  soldiefs.  It  was  the  example  and  precepts  of  their  general 
j  that  urged  them  onward  to  victory.  From  side  to  side  of  the 
^  camp  he  rode,  here  leading  a  charge  in  person,  here  directing  an 
officer  how  to  give  support  to  the  side  attacked,  here  stopping 
to  reprove  the  cowardice  of  a  French  ensign  who  sheltered  him- 
self behind  a  tree,  and  who  complained  bitterly  of  the  injury 
done  him  in  supposing  he  was  cowardly  in  getting  there. 

"  I  vas  not  behind  de  tree,  de  tree  vas  before  me.  Dere  vas  de 
tree,  here  va^  my  position ;  how  can  I  help  ?  I  cannot  move  de 
tree,  I  cannot  ler,f  my  position.'' 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON, 


159 


Gov.  Harrison  was  in  no  slight  danger,  as  the  Indians  had  de- 
termined to  kill  him,  if  possible.  Intending  to  ride  a  white  mare^ 
his  usual  steed,  an  accident  compelled  him  to  use  another ;  a  most 
fortunate  circumstance  for  him,  for  the  Indians  made  a  special 
mark  of  an  aid  mounted  upon  a  white  horse,  and  he  was  killed 
very  early  in  the  engagement.  But  although  the  brim  of  his  hat 
was  perforated,  and  his  hair  grazed  by  a  ball,  the  governor  es- 
caped unhurt. 

The  whole  day  was  spent  in  fortifying  the  angles  of  the  camp 
and  caring  for  the  wounded.  The  next  morning  a  strong  party 
was  sent  out  to  reconnoiter  the  Prophet's  town,  which  was  found 
deserted  by  all  but  a  chief  with  a  broken  leg.  There  was  a  great 
quantity  of  corn,  which  proved  very  acceptable,  since  on  the  pre- 
ceding day  they  had  had  no  food  but  horse-flesh.  The  town  had 
been  abandoned  in  the  utmost  haste.  Having  dressed  the  wound 
of  the  chief  and  provided  sufficient  food  to  last  him  for  several 
days,  they  told  him  to  say  to  the  Indians  that  those  who  should 
leave  the  Prophet  and  return  to  their  own  tribes  should  be  forgiv- 
en ;  then  destroyed  the  brass  kettles,  took  with  them  the  corn,  the 
fowls  and  the  hogs,  and  burned  the  town. 

The  Prophet's  influence  was  gone  forever,  and  in  Tecumseh'g 
absence  there  was  no  one  to  rally  the  scattered  savages.  The 
chief  returned  in  a  few  days,  to  find  the  confederacy  seemingly 
crushed  at  the  first  blow  ;  his  town  destroyed,  his  followers  scat- 
tered, the  Prophet  in  disgrace.  Not  all  the  cunning  of  Elskwat^ 
awa  could  shield  him  from  the  just  anger  of  his  great  brother.  Se«« 
vere  were  the  reproaches,  utterly  disregarded  the  trivial  excuses 
for  having  disobeyed  the  positive  command  to  keep  the  peace; 
Tecumseh,  doubly  exasperated  by  the  disobedience  and  by  the 
attempt  to  excuse  it,  seized  the  Prophet  by  the  hair  and  gave 
him  a  good  shaking.  When  we  think  how  he  had  used  his  influ- 
ence over  the  Indians  for  their  destruction,  we  cannot  help  re- 
gretting that  Tecumseh  administered  no  greater  punishment.  The 
Prophet's  power  was  indeed  gone  forever. 

"  You  are  a  liar,"  said  a  "Winnebago  warrior  to  him  whom  they 
had  but  lately  revered  as  a  messenger  from  the  Great  Spirit;  '*^for 
you  told  us  that  the  white  people  were  dead  or  crazy,  when  they 
were  all  in  their  senses  and  fought  like  the  devil.^' 

The  Prophet  replied,  in  a  tone  strangely  different  from  that 
^v^hich  he  was  accustomed  to  use,  that  there  had  been  some  mis* 
take  in  the  compounding  of  his  decoction.    The  enraged  Indians 


160 


GENERAI   WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


bound  him,  and  threatened  him  with  the  death  to  which  he  hftS 
condemned  so  many  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft,  but  finally  re- 
leased him  without  inflicting  any  punishment.  To  prove  theii 
good  intentions  towards  the  whites,  however,  they  told  many 
long  stories  of  what  they  were  going  to  do  to  him;  there  being 
as  much  truth  in  their  threats  as  in  his  pretensions  to  superna- 
tural power. 

But  Tecumseh  did  not  despair.  His  own  immediate  adherents 
were  dispersed  among  the  various  tribes,  his  headquarters  had 
been  destroyed,  and  that  spiritual  influence  which  his  brother 
possessed  was  entirely  gone ;  but  the  tribes  far  and  near  acknowl- 
edged his  fitness  to  be  a  leader,  and  many  of  them  were  still  wil- 
ling to  listen  to  his  plans.  He  continued  his  work  thei,  still  hop- 
ing to  be  chief  of  a  confederacy  great  as  that  ^f  the  Seventeen 
Pires. 

The  Indian  depredations  continuing  to  alarm  the  frontiers 
through  the  spring  of  1812,  Gov.  Harrison  endeavored  to  induce 
the  friendly  tribes  to  drive  off  the  Prophet  and  other  disaffected 
Indians,  but  was  for  a  while  only  partially  successful.  In  June, 
Tecumseh,  angered  by  being  refused  ammunition  at  Fort  Wayne, 
went  to  Maiden,  allying  himself  with  the  English  who  were  then 
in  possession  there,  and  w^ho  had,  just  before  his  arrival,  heard  of 
the  declaration  of  war  between  the  two  countries.  Engaging 
actively  in  the  cause  of  the  British,  he  sent  the  Prophet,  who  had 
regained  something  of  his  brother's  confidence,  to  Fort  Wayne 
to  assure  the  agent  that  he  was  friendly  to  the  Americans ;  but 
his  hostility  soon  became  well  known  by  the  part  that  he  took  in 
more  than  one  engagement,  and  about  August  of  the  same  yeai 
he  was  made  a  brigadier-general  in  the  "British  army. 

When,  in  September,  1812,  Gov.  Haralson  received  the  military 
appointment  already  mentioned,  his  main  object  was  to  recap- 
ture the  Michigan  territory  and  its  dependencies,  which  Gen. 
Hull  had  allowed  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  British.  In  order 
to  do  this,  and  secure  communication  with  the  United  States,  if 
would  be  necessary  for  him  first  to  take  Maiden,  and  then  to 
drive  the  Indians  from  the  west  bank  of  the  Detroit.  Having 
done  this,  he  would  march  upon  Upper  Canada  and  eonquerthat. 
But  delays  of  reinforcements  prevented  his  moving  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  and  he  passed  the  winter  in  Fort  Meigs,  built  for  thd 
purpose. 

Late  in  April  of  the  following  year  (1813),  a  large  force  of  Brit- 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


IGl 


ish  and  Indians,  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Proctor  and  Tecum- 
seh,  appeared  before  the  fort  and  began  to  erect  their  batteries. 
By  crder  of  Gen.  Harrison,  the  Amwican  troops  threw  up  a  re- 
doubt twelve  feet  high,  behind  which  they  retired,  and  against 
which  the  ammunition  of  his  majesty  was  wasted.  The  siege 
continued  eleven  days,  during  which  the  Americans  met  with  se- 
Yeroloss  on  the  part  of  a  scouting  troop;  but  this  was  thought  in- 
su'Mcient  success  by  the  British  commander,  and  he  returned  to 
Maiden.  The  same  officers  returned  to  the  siege  two  months 
later,  but  again  gave  up  the  work. 

Perry's  victory  on  Lake  Erie  made  the  British  general  less  ag- 
gressive, and  in  September  he  abandoned  Maiden,  intending  to 
make  his  way  to  the  heart  of  Canada  by  the  valley  of  the  Thames. 
Harrison  having  received  all  his  expected  reinforcements,  fol- 
lowed in  hot  pursuit,  overtaking  him  on  the  fifth  of  October.  At 
every  defeat  that  the  English  had  suifered,  the^ Indians  had  be- 
come more  and  more  dissatisfied,  and  at  length  began  to  hold 
secret  councils,  of  the  proceedings  in  which  they  would  tell  Gen. 
Proctor  nothing.  Tecumseh,  especially,  was  jealous  in  the  ex- 
treme of  his  dignity,  both  as  an  Indian  chief  and  as  a  British 
general ;  rarely  speaking  to  English  officers  or  agents  in  any  but 
the  Shawnee  tongue,  although  he  knew  English  enough  to  carry 
on  any  ordinary  conversation.  Nor  would  he  brook  what  he  con- 
sidered an  insult.  At  one  time,  while  they  were  still  at  Maiden, 
provisions  became  scarce,  and  while  the  English  were  supplied 
with  salt  beef,  the  Indians  were  given  horse-flesh.  Tecumseh  com  * 
plained  to  Gen.  Proctor,  ^vho  seemed  indiiferent  to  the  remor- 
strance.  Touching  first  the  hilt  of  the  general's  sword,  then  his 
own  tomahawk,  he  indicated  a  way  of  settling  the  difficulty,  with 
the  y/ords :    ^'  You  are  Proctor ;  I  am  Tecumseh.'^ 

General  Proctor  gave  orders  that  English  and  Indians  should 
have  the  same  food. 

As  may  be  guessed,  Tecumseh  was  a  very  difficult  ally  to  man- 
age. Constantly  suspicious  of  the  English,  Gen.  Proctor  found 
it  necessary  to  deceive  him  as  to  the  result  of  the  naval  battle, 
and  also  as  to  the  retreat  from  Maiden.  Fearing  his  outspoken 
disapproval,  and  dealing  with  him  by  a  cringing  and  maneuver- 
ing policy  which  the  Indian  readily  saw  for  what  it  was,  the  Eng- 
lishman only  encouraged  his  ally  to  the  greater  insolence.  When 
the  general  first  made  known  to  the  chief  his  determination  to 
proceed  up  the  Thames,  Tecumseh  retorted  in  a  speech  of  which 
22 


m 


aENERAL  WILLIAM  HSNRY  HARRISON, 


Proctor  kept  a  copy,  that  others  might  realize  the  insults  which 
he  was  obliged  to  swallow.  After  telling  how  the  Indians  had 
waited  for  the  English  to  give  the  signal  for  war,  he  spoke  of  the 
uncertain  information  that  had  been  given  them  in  regard  to  the 
naval  battle. 

<^You  always  told  us,'^  said  he,  with  fierce  emphasis,  "that 
you  would  never  draw  your  foot  off  British  ground ;  but  now, 
father,  we  see  you  are  drawing  back,  and  we  are  sorry  that  our 
father  does  so  without  seeing  the  enemy.  We  must  compare  our 
father's  conduct  to  that  of  a  fat  dog  that  carries  its  tail  upon  its 
back,  but  when  affrighted  it  drops  it  between  its  legs  and  runs 
off.  Father,  listen  !  The  Americans  have  not  yet  defeated  us  by 
land  ;  neither  are  we  sure  that  they  have  done  so  by  water ;  wo 
therefore  wish  to  remain  here  and  fight  our  enemy,  should  they 
make  their  appearance.  If  they  defeat  us,  we  will  then  retreat 
with  our  father.? 

The  advice  of  Tecumseh  was  not  regarded,  and  the  haughty 
chief,  curling  his  lip  with  scorn,  threatened  to  leave  the  English 
service.  Only  the  protests  of  the  Sioux  and  Chippewas  kept  him 
faithful  to  his  allies.  Sadly  he  said  to  a  young  Indian  compan- 
ion, as  they  began  the  retreat : 

"  We  are  now  going  to  follow  the  British,  and  I  feel  well  as- 
sured that  we  shall  never  return.  ^' 

On  his  retreat  up  the  Thames,  Gen.  Proctor  pronxised  Tecum- 
seh to  give  battle,  first  at  this  place,  then  at  that ;  evading  always 
the  fulfillment  of  his  promise  until  it  was  no  longer  possible.  It 
was  only  when  arrived  near  the  Moravian  town,  a  village  of  con- 
verted Delawares,  that  Tecumseh  absolutely  refused  to  retreat 
any  farther,  and  Gen.  Proctor  found  he  must  prepare  for  battle. 

Here,  protected  on  the  one  hand  by  the  river,  on  the  other  by 
a  marsh,  the  English  and  Indians  arranged  themselves  in  order 
of  battle,  awaiting  the  American  forces.  After  his  warriors  wore 
posted,  Tecumseh  said  to  the  chiefs  w^ho  surrounded  him : 

Brother  warriors,  we  are  now  about  to  enter  an  engagement 
from  which  I  shall  never  come  out — my  body  will  remain  on  the 
field  of  battle.'' 

Unbuckling  his  sword,  and  handing  it  to  one  of  them,  he 
charged  him : 

"  When  my  son  becomes  a  noted  warrior  and  able  to  wield  a 
sword,  give  this  to  him." 

Th()  American  infantry  charged  and  broke  through  the  English 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRllSON, 


163 


line,  throwing  it  into  complete  disorder,  and  working  such  des- 
truction that  the  battle  at  this  point  was  soon  over.  Col.  John- 
son's mounted  battalion  rode  bravely  upon  the  other  wing,  where 
there  were  more  than  a  thousand  warriors  under  Tecumseh's  com- 
mand ;  but  the  Indians  remained  motionless  until  they  could  see 
the  flints  in  the  Americans'  guns.  Then  Tecumseh  sprang  for- 
ward, with  the  Shawnee  war-whoop,  and  fired — the  signal  for  the 
fight.  The  advance  guard  of  the  American  force  was  nearly  all 
cut  down  by  the  first  fire,  and  Col.  Johnson  himself  severely 
wounded.    For  seven  or  eight  minutes  the  battle  raged  fiercely. 


DEATH  OF  TECUMSEH. 


Tecumseh  cheering  his  men  onw^ard.  Over  the  prostrate  body 
of  the  American  leader  bent  an  Indian  chief,  ready  with  his 
scalping-knife ;  a  pistol-shot  and  the  savage  fell  dead.  The  Ameri- 
cans did  not  recognize  the  tall  form,  clad  simply  in  a  buck-skin 
suit,  without  any  ornament  but  a  medal,  as  that  of  their  most 
formidable  Indian  foe  since  the  days  of  Pontiac;  his  warriors 
knew  only  that  he  had  fallen,  by  whose  hand  it  little  mattered, 
and  turning,  fled  to  the  surrounding  marsh. 

General  Harrison  could  not  be  praised  enough  for  this  victory, 
won,  as  was  Tippecanoe,  by  his  skill  as  a  general  and  courage  as 
a  leader.    Congress  gave  to  him  and  to  his  assistant,  the  aged 


164 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


ex-Gov.  Shelby  of  Kentucky,  a  vote  of  thanks ;  accompanying  it 
by  a  gold  medal  presented  to  each.  The  General's  success  and 
popularity,  however,  aroused  the  jealousy  of  the  Secretary  of 
War,  who  gave  instructions  to  inferior  officers  without  having 
consulted  the  commander-in-chief,  and  by  similar  means  showed 
his  prejudice  against  the  hero  of  the  west.  General  Harrison 
would  have  been  lacking  in  due  self-respect  had  he  been  content 
to  retain  his  position  under  the  circumstances,  and  he  promptly 
resigned.  His  resignation  was  tendered  and  accepted  during 
President  Madison's  absence  from  the  Capital ;  and  the  Chief 
Executive,  who  greatly  regretted  that  he  had  not  knowm  of  the 
difficulty,  gave  him  a  fresh  token  of  his  confidence  by  appointing 
him,  in  the  summer  of  1814,  one  of  the  commissioners  to  treaj 
wiih  the  Indians  at  Greenville.  Two  years  later,  he  was  chosen 
to  represent  Ohio  in  the  national  Congress,  but  had  hardly  taken 
his  seat  when  his  conduct  while  in  command  of  the  northwestern 
army  was  impugned.  A  committee  of  investigation  was,  by  his 
own  request,  appointed.  Col.  Johnson  being  the  chairman.  It  ip 
hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  result  was  a  triumphant  vindi. 
cation  of  the  patriotism  and  ability  of  the  slandered  soldier,  whc 
had  so  illy  deserved  the  aspersions. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  follow  every  step  of  his  future  life : 
here  his  military  career  ends,  and  the  remainder  need  be  only 
briefly  outlinedo  A  state  senator  of  Ohio  in  1819,  five  years  later 
he  was  chosen  a  presidential  elector,  casting  his  vote  for  Clay  ; 
elected  to  the  United  States  Senate  in  the  following  year,  in  1828 
he  was  appointed  minister  plenipotentiary  to  the  United  States 
of  Columbia,  then  in  the  confusion  so  common  to  the  Spanish- 
American  countries.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  Gen.  Jackson's  ad- 
ministration was  to  recall  him,  and  with  a  sturdy  independence 
he  descended  from  the  high  offices  that  he  had  held,  to  accept  the 
position  of  clerk  of  the  Hamilton  county  court.  Brought  forward 
in  1836  as  a  candidate  for  the  presidency,  the  opposition  to  Van 
Buren  was  not  united  in  support  of  any  one  candidate,  and  the 
devoted  follower  of  Jackson  was  elected.  Pour  years  later,  the 
Whigs  had  learned  better,  and  the  convention  held  at  Harris- 
burg,  after  three  days'  balloting,  chose  William  Henry  Harrison, 
of  Ohio,  and  John  Tyler,  of  Virginia,  as  their  candidates. 

^'  Give  Harrison  a  log-cabin  and  a  barrel  of  hard  cider,  and  he 
will  never  leave  Ohio  to  be  President  of  the  United  States/'  said 
one  of  his  political  enemies.  ^ 


GENERAL  WILLI AjM  HENRY  HARRISON.  ICS 

The  o-aying  spread  like  wild-flre,  and  the  log-cabin  became  thr 
insignia  of  the  Whigs,  as  their  war  cry  was  — 

"  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler,  too, 
And  with  them  we'll  beat  little  "Van." 

Thus  the  memory  of  a  victory  achieved  nearly  thirty  years  be- 
fore served  to  show  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  still  held  by  the 


TECUMSEH  RALLYING  THE  TRIBES. 


people;  and  the  name  of  the  Prophet's  town  was  coupled  with 
the  cry  of  "  Victory  ! in  the  fall. 

The  story  draws  rapidly  to  a  close.  For  the  first  time  in  its 
history,  the  country  was  called  upon  to  mourn  the  loss  of  its 
Chief  Magistrate,  a  month  after  his  inauguration.  Grief  was  gen- 
eral and  wide-spread.    "Never  since  the  time  of  Washington," 


166 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   hr.WRV  HARRISON. 


said  the  National  Intelligencer,  has  one  man  so  coneoiJtrated 
upon  himself  the  love  and  the  confidence  of  the  American  peo- 
ple." Unfortunately,  even  the  child  can  remember  the  grief  of 
the  nation  on  such  an  occasion  ;  there  is  no  need  to  expatiate  up- 
on it,  nor  is  there  need  to  say  more  of  the  character  or  services 
of  him,  whom  the  people  that  he  defended  appropriately  and 
•-^^^ctionately  styled  "  Old  Tippecanoe/' 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

COLONEL  DAVID  CEOCKETT. 

EVEEY  newspaper  issued  to-day  chronicles  the  life  of  the  na- 
tion, as  made  up  of  innumerable  individual  lives ;  but  fifty 
years  ago  each  journal  told  of  a  few  prominent  individuals,  leav- 
ing to  the  reader  the  task  of  constructing  a  whole  from  these  parts. 
Hero  worship  is  dying  out  of  the  newspapers  and  the  political 
party ;  it  is  no  longer  enthusiasm  for  a  soldier  or  a  statesman, 
but  the  policy  of  the  party,  or,  perhaps,  the  machine,^^  which 
controls  elections.  Such  was  not  the  case  a  half  century  ago; 
then  it  was  personal  prejudice  that  defeated  a  candidate,  or  per- 
sonal preference  that  elected  him.  Such  were  the  days  of  Col. 
David  Crockett,  the  earliest  of  American  humorists,  whose  quaint 
sayings  were  household  words — or  equally  venerable  newspaper 
paragraphs — before  Mark  Twain  was  born. 

John  Crockett,  the  father  of  David,  was  born  in  Ireland  or  on 
the  passage  to  this  country.  He  was  a  soldier  in  the  American 
army  during  the  whole  period  of  the  Eevolution.  Either  he  was 
married  before  the  war  began,  or  an  opportune  furlough  enabled 
him  to  woo  and  win  Eebecca  Hawkins,  a  native  of  Maryland; 
for  their  fifth  son,  David,  was  born  August  17,  1786.  The  fani- 
iiv  had  lived  for  a  time  in  North  Carolina,  but  had,  at  some 
time  before  this  date,  moved  to  Greene  County,  as  it  is  now 
called,  in  East  Tennessee.  This  was  then  a  wild  and  partly  set- 
tled country,  where  the  Indians  gave  considerable  trouble.  Short- 
ly after  the  removal  of  the  Crockett  family,  the  Creeks  murder- 
ed John  Crockett's  parents,  wounded  one  son,  and  carried  into 
captivity  another.  This  captive  uncle  of  our  hero  remained 
amon^  the  Indians  for  nearly  eighteen  years ;  the  fact  that  he 
was  a  deaf  mute  rendering  it  diJfficult  for  him  to  escape.  He  was 
finally  recognized  and  purchased  by  two  of  his  brothers. 

Such  was  their  poverty,  and  so  far  in  the  wilderness  was  their 
home,  that  John  Crockett  and  his  wife  could  not  give  their  chil- 


168 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


dren  any  tuition  at  school  for  a  long  time  ;  to  this  lack  of  school- 
ing is  probably  due  that  dislike  and  contempt  of  the  most  famous 
of  them  for  "  this  way  of  spelling  contrary  to  nature/'  Each  of 
them  probably  acquired  a  goodly  share  of  shrewd  common  sense 
by  the  part  which  he  was  obliged  to  take  in  active  life. 

John  Crockett  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  unfortunate 
men  whose  business  ventures  always  fail.  ^'A  rolling  stone  gath- 
ers no  moss/'  and  in  seven  or  eight  years  from  the  time  of  his 
son  David's  birth,  he  had  moved,  changing  his  business  with  each 
removal,  no  less  than  three  times.  The  last  time,  he  settled  in 
Jeferson  County,  and  opened  a  small  tavern  on  the  road  between 
Abingdon  and  Knoxville.  The  accommodations  were  of  the 
kind  best  appreciated  by  the  wagoners  who  were  continually  go- 
ing to  and  fro  between  these  places.  The  tavern  was  on  such  a 
small  scale  that  David  had  almost  entire  charge  of  the  horses 
belonging  to  the  guests;  a  task  that  at  times  was  arduous,  but 
to  which  he  soon  looked  back  longingly. 

There  came  to  the  little  tavern  one  evening  a  Dutchman,  nam- 
ed Jacob  Siler,  who  said  that  he  was  moving  from  i^^noxville  to 
Eockbridge,  "Virginia,  about  four  hundred  miles  off.  He  wanted 
some  one  to  help  him  with  the  cattle  that  he  had  with  him,  and 
John  Crockett  hired  his  twelve  year  old  son  to  go  with  this  stran- 
ger that  long  distance  on  foot.  David  was  very  kindly  treated 
by  his  master,  who  professed  himself  very  much  pleased  with  the 
services  of  his  young  assistant;  but  so  strong  was  the  boy's  at- 
tachment to  his  home  that  he  never  once  lost  sight  of  the  idea  of 
returning.  In  order,  however,  that  this  hope  might  ever  be  re- 
alized, he  was  obliged  to  conceal  it. 

After  what  seemed  an  age  to  the  impatience  of  youth,  but  which 
was  really  four  or  five  weeks,  he  espied,  while  playing  with  some 
companions  near  the  road,  three  wagoners  who  had  often  stop- 
ped at  his  father's  tavern.  He  told  them  his  pitiful  tale  of  home- 
•^ickness,  and  they  said  that  they  would  stop  at  a  tavern  seven 
TT.iles  from  there  that  night,  and  leave  at  dawn  the  next  morn- 
ing ;  that  if  he  would  be  at  that  place  before  day,  they  would 
take  him  along  with  them,  and  defend  him  if  his  master  pur- 
sued. Between  his  anxiety  to  be  at  home,  and  his  dr^d  of 
pursuit,  the  boy  slept  but  little,  and  arose  three  hours  before  day- 
break. When  he  started,  the  snow  was  about  eight  inches  deep, 
and  still  felling ;  no  moon  shone,  and  an  opening  through  the 
timber  was  the  only  road.    Cheered  by  the  thought  that  it  was 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


169 


the  way  home^  and  anxious  lest  he  should  be  too  late  to  overtake 
the  wagoners,  the  little  hero  plodded  on,  the  snow,  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  journey,  being  up  to  his  knees;  and  arrived  about  an 
hour  before  day-lighto  He  was  at  first  fearful  of  pursuit,  but 
the  drifting  snow  had  obliterated  all  trace  of  his  foot-prints. 

He  journeyed  on  in  company  with  the  wagoners,  until  they 
reached  a  house  on  Eoanoke,  where  he  left  them,  intending  to 
pursue  the  rest  of  the  way  on  foot,  as  he  would  thus  arrive  at 
home  much  sooner.  Meeting  with  a  strange  gentleman  who  in- 
vited him  to  ride  upon  a  led  horse,  he  accepted  the  olfer,  and  they 
continued  together  until  they  reached  a  point  fifteen  miles 
from  the  little  tavern,  where  the  road  diverged.  Although  the 
name  of  this  stranger  did  not  linger  long  in  the  boy^s  memory, 
the  kindness  was  never  forgotten,  but  was  mentioned  nearly  fifty 
years  after  with  gratitude. 

He  lived  at  home  until  the  next  fall,  when  his  father  sent  the 
boys  to  a  school  recently  opened  in  the  neighborhood  by  a  cer- 
tain Benjamin  KitcheUo  But  his  attendance  here  was  not  of  long 
duration.  Having  had,  on  the  fourth  day,  a  falling  out  with  one 
of  the  larger  bo^'S,  David,  who  was  just  getting  a  good  grip  on 
the  alphabet,  slipped  out  while  the  more  advanced  pupils  were 
spelling,  and  hid  himself  in  the  bushes  by  the  roadside.  As  soon 
as  school  was  over,  and  the  other  boy  came  along  the  road,  young 
Crockett  sprang  upon  him  like  a  wild-cat,  and  soon  made  him  cry 
for  quarter.  But  the  victor  felt  himself  not  invincible  by  the  super- 
ior strength  of  the  schoolmaster,  and  decided  to  forego  learning 
for  a  time.  This  was  a  resolution  not  to  be  announced  at  home, 
however;  so,  having  persuaded  his  brothers  to  keep  his  secret, 
they,  as  usual,  left  the  house  together  the  next  morning,  as  if  all 
were  going  to  school ;  but  David  left  them  as  soon  as  they  were 
out  of  sight  of  the  house,  and  spending  the  day  in  the  woods,  re- 
turned with  them  in  the  afternoono 

For  a  few  days  the  plan  worked  admirably,  but  soon  the  school- 
master sent  a  note  of  inquiry  to  David^s  parents.  The  father  had 
been  drinking  just  enough  to  make  him  cross.  In  answer  to  his 
questions  the  boy  told  the  whole  story,  saying  that  he  knew  that 
"  Kitchen  would  cook  him  up  to  a  cracklin^  in  no  time.'^  He  was 
soon  aware,  however,  that  he  would  not  meet  with  any  support 
at  home,  for  his  father  said  : 

I'll  whip  you  a  Harnal  sight  worse'n  the  master  if  vou  don't 
istart  otf  to  school  right  now/' 


170 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


The  boy  tried  hard  to  beg  off,  but  vainly.  Seeing  his  father 
cut  a  stout  hickory,  he  judged  it  was  about  time  to  put  a  little 
greater  distance  between  them;  off  he  ran,  not  towards  the  school- 
house,  chased  hotly  by  the  irate  old  man  3  but  he  succeeded  in 
giving  the  slip  to  the  hickory  rod,  and  did  not  return  home  for 
nearly  three  years.  Often,  he  says,  did  he  wish  to  be  at  home 
again,  but  the  dread  of  Schoolmaster  Kitchen  and  his  father's  big 
hickory  kept  him  away.  Going  back,  he  was  not  recognized  for 
some  time,  nor  did  he  make  himself  known.  They  had  given  him 
up  as  dead,  and  when  his  sister,  startled  by  some  familiar  gesture 
or  smile,  proclaimed  that  the  lost  was  found,  such  was  the  joy  of 
all  that  he  would  rather  have  submitted  to  a  hundred  whippings 
than  have  remained  away  longer. 

The  whole  of  the  ensuing  year  was  spent  in  working  out  two 
debts  of  his  father's,  the  entire  sum  being  seventy-six  dollars. 
The  second  term  of  this  service  was  with  an  honest  old  Quaker, 
John  Kennedy,  for  whom  he  continued  to  work  after  the  expira- 
tion K)f  the  fixed  time,  in  order  to  provide  himself  with  clothes. 
During  this  service,  a  pretty  niece  of  the  old  Quaker's  came  to 
visit  him,  and  young  Crockett  fell  violently  in  love.  The  warmth 
of  his  affection  was  equalled  only  by  his  bashfulness,  but  at  last 
he  screwed  his  courage  to  the  sticking-place,"  and,  with  the 
usual  threats  of  dying  of  grief  if  his  love  were  not  returned,  he 
laid  bare  his  heart  to  the  lady.  It  was  in  vain,  however,  for  she 
told  him  that  she  was  engaged  to  her  cousin,  young  Kennedy, 
and  Davy  reconsidered  the  idea  of  going  into  a  decline,  deciding 
that,  as  his  troubles  probably  came  from  the  lack  of  learning,  he 
had  better  go  to  school. 

For  six  months,  then,  he  attended  a  school  kept  by  John  Ken- 
nedy's married  son,  working  two  days  in  the  week  to  pay  for  his 
tuition  the  other  four,  and  for  his  board.  Having  learned  to  read 
a  little  in  the  primer,  to  write  his  own  name,  and  gotten  as  far  as 
the  multiplication  table,  he  decided  that  he  could  not  possibly  do 
without  a  wife  any  longer,  and  quitting  school,  immediately  set 
about  providing  himself.  An  old  playmate  was  his  choice,  and 
after  some  evasion  and  delay,  she  accepted  his  offer,  and  a  day 
was  set  for  the  wedding,  the  bridegroom-elect  being  about  eigh- 
teen. 

He  had  purchased  a  rifle,  and  was  frequently  a  competitor  in 
the  shooting-matches  for  beef.  One  Saturday  he  set  out  to  one  of 
these  gatherings,  intending  to  go  on  towards  the  lady's  home  af- 


jOLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


i71 


terwards.  In  fact,  he  had  some  important  business  there,  as  they 
wore  to  be  married  the  next  Saturday,  and  he  had  not  yet  asked 
the  consent  of  her  parents.  Of  his  success  in  this  direction,  how- 
ever, he  had  not  the  sJightest  doubt,  and  his  good  opinion  of  him- 
self was  not  lessened  by  the  fact  that  he  won  nearly  the  whole 
beef  by  his  skill  witL  the  rifle.  Disposing  of  his  prize  for  five 
dollars,  he  walked  OLward,  stopping  on  the  way  at  the  house  of. 
his  sweetheart's  uncle.    Here  he  found  her  sister,  who,  with  con- 

e  was  being  deceived  ;  that  his 
promised  bride  would  marry 
some  one  else  the  next  day; 
but  that,  although  the  success- 
ful rival  had  asked  for  the  lady 
and  had  secured  the  license, 
her  parents^  she  knew,  would 
much  prefer  David,  and  if  he 
would  only  go  onward  to  her 
father's  house,  he  might  yet 
break  off  the  match.  David  de  - 
clined to  do  so,  however,  not 
wishing,  perhaps,  to  force  him- 
self upon  her. 

Once  again  he  was  disconso- 
late, and  might  have  remained 
so  a  longer  time,  if  a  girl  whom 
he  describes  as  so  ugly  that 
it  hurt  one's  eyes  to  look  at 
her  had  not  taken  pity  on  him, 
and  introduced  him  at  a  reap- 
ing to  a  pretty  little  Irish  girl,  with  whom,' of  course,  h  was 
soon  in  love  as  deeply  as  ever.  To  make  a  long  story  short, 
they  were  married,  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  her  mother. 
Finding  that  no  one  else  objected,  the  mother-in-law  at  last  re- 
lented, and  gave  them  two  cows  and  calves  towards  settling  in 
life;  they  rented  a  cabin  and  a  little  ground;  John  Kennedy 
gave  them  an  order  on  a  store  for  fifteen  dollars'  worth  of 
household  goods  ;  '^Adam  delved  and  Eve  spun,''  and  by  dint  of 
hard  work  they  made  a  living  for  themselves  and  the  two  sons 
born  to  them  soon.  But  renting  ground  was  poor  policy  ;  so  in 
1809  they  removed  across  the  mountains  to  Lincoln  county, 
where  game  was  still  plentiful^  and  where  he  laid  the  foundatioB 


siderable  regret,  told  him  that  h 


DAYID  CROCKETT. 


172 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


of  his  fame  as  a  huntePc  After  a  two  years^  residence  here,  they 
moved  again,  this  time  to  Franklin  County. 

In  1813,  the  Creek  Indians,  living  in  Alabama  and  Greorgia, 
being  incited  to  hostilities  by  the  British  and  Spanish,  surprised 
Fort  Mimms,  forty  miles  north  of  Mobile,  and  massacred  the 
garrison,  numbering  about  three  hundred  persons.  There  was 
no  mistaking  the  meaning  of  this ;  the  Creeks  felt  themselves 
strong  enough  to  drive  the  whites  out  of  the  country.  A  call  for 
volunteers  speedily  followed,  and  the  hunter  felt  the  wild  passion 
that  leads  a  man  to  the  field  of  battle  raging  in  his  breast.  His 
wife  would  have  persuaded  him  to  remain  with  her  and  their 
boys,  but  he  answered  : 

If  every  man  waits  until  his  wife  tells  him  to  go  to  war,  we 
will  all  stay  here  and  be  murdered  in  our  own  homes. 

To  this  argument  she  had  no  reply,  and  when  the  muster  was 
held  at  Winchester  a  few  days  later,  her  husband  was  the  second 
or  third  man  who  stepped  forward  to  enlist.  Thirteen  hundred 
mounted  volunteers  joined  Gen.  Jackson's  command,  being  en- 
rolled for  sixty  days.  At  the  end  of  two  months,  however,  the 
war  was  by  no  means  over,  and  many  of  them  re-enlisted.  Crock- 
ett distinguished  himself,  not  only  as  a  scout  and  a  spy,  but  as  a 
brave  man  in  open  battle.  His  skill  in  hunting  proved  of  mat- 
erial assistance  to  his  comrades,  for  open-hearted  as  he  was,  when 
he  had  anything  to  share,  no  one  around  him  lacked. 

Shortly  after,  he  met  with  the  misfortune  of  the  death  of  his 
wife.  Left  with  three  children,  the  youngest  a  mere  baby,  he  at 
first  committed  them  to  the  care  of  his  brother's  wife;  but  how- 
ever good,  it  was  not  a  mother's,  and  he  undertook  to  supply  the 
deficiency  in  another  way.  A  widow  of  one  of  his  comrades 
lived  near  by,  and  to  her  he  suggested  a  union  of  their  two  fami- 
lies. Her  two  children  were  as  small  as  his,  and  each  seems  to 
have  adopted  the  other's  quite  cheerfully. 

The  succeeding  years  were  filled  with  events  of  comparatively 
slight  importance.  Crockett  continued  to  increase  in  popularity, 
the  elements  of  which  lay  in  his  readiness  to  share  with  all  com- 
ers, his  perpetual  good  humor,  his  fund  of  anecdote,  and,  when 
this  failed  him,  his  capacity  for  ready  invention ;  above  all,  by 
his  instant  recognition  of  the  merest  chance  acquaintance.  There 
is  nothing  which  gives  a  man  so  favorable  an  impression  of  an- 
other as  that  ability  of  the  other  to  call  him  by  name  without 
hesitation.  We  are  well-disposed  towards  those  whom  we  impress. 


COLONEL  DAVll)  CROCKETT. 


173 


Eemoving  to  Laurens  county,  he  found  there  a  most  primitive 
state  of  society.  Thinking  that  some  sort  of  restraint  would  be 
necessary,  the  men  of  the  community  met  to  elect  magistrates 
and  constables.  The  election  took  place  in  due  form,  Crockett 
being  made  magistrate;  but  they  omitted  the  making  of  laws, 
leaving  that  entirely  to  the  discretion  of  their  chosen  officials. 
The  law  as  thus  administered  was  somewhat  informal,  as  may  be 
imagined.  Justice  Crockett's  warrants  were  in  what  he  called 
^^verbal  writing  that  is,  he  would  say  to  his  constable,  when  any 
©newas  noted  as  an  offender: 

^'  Catch  that  fellow  and  bring  him  here.^^ 

Justice  and  constable  considered  this  sufficient;  and  it  is  to  be 
supposed  that  the  criminal  did,  too,  for  he  usually  allowed  him- 
self to  be  brought.  The  Assembly  added  their  settlement  to  those 
in  Giles  county,  and  decreed  that  the  justices  must  make  out  their 
warrants  in  real  writing,^'  and  keep  written  records.  These 
were  hard  lines  to  one  who  could  hardly  write  his  own  name,  but 
by  dint  of  perseverance  he  succeeded  in  learning  to  write 
more  easily,  and  to  keep  his  records  without  much  difficulty. 
Then,  too,  he  was  ably  seconded  by  his  constable,  whom  he  em- 
powered to  fill  out  warrants  when  he  thought  it  necessary,  with- 
out reference  to  his  chief.  But  the  judgments  he  delivered  were 
never  appealed  from,  for  all  the  irregularity  that  there  may  have 
been  in  getting  at  them ;  since  they  were  formed  on  common- 
sense,  justice  and  honesty. 

One  honor  led  to  another,  for  so  did  his  offiee  of  magistrate 
raise  him  in  his  own  opinion,  that  he  was  a  willing  candidate  for 
their  positions.  A  short  time  before  a  certain  military  election, 
he  was  urged  by  a  Capt.  Matthews  to  run  for  major  of  a  regiment; 
he  at  first  refused,  saying  that  he  had  had  enough  of  military 
life;  but  so  strong  became  the  persuasions  of  Matthews,  who  said 
that  he  intended  to  offer  for  colonel,  and  would  do  everything  in 
his  power  to  advance  his  friend,  that  Crockett  yielded.  Finding, 
however,  that  in  spite  of  these  protestations  of  friendship  and  of- 
fers of  assistance,  Matthews'  son  intended  to  run  for  the  post  of 
major,  our  hero's  usual  good  nature  failed  him,  and  thinking  that, 
if  he  had  to  contend  with  the  family,  it  might  as  well  be  with  the 
head  of  it,  he  concluded  that  he  would  prefer  to  be  colonel.  When 
the  election  was  over,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  both 
of  the  Matthews  were  badly  beaten,  and  he  was  Colonel  Crockett. 

At  the  next  election  he  became  a  candidate  for  the  State  Leg- 


174 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


islature.  Electioneering  was  a  new  business  to  him,  and  he  felt 
somewhat  doubtful  as  to  his  success,  knowing  but  little,  if  any. 
thing,  about  ^'  government/'  Like  many  another  man,  though, 
while  not  claiming  to  know  more  than  he  did,  he  did  not  tell  ex- 
actly how  much  he  did  not  know;  the  result  was  that  nobody 
thought  anything  about  it,  being  satisfied  that  a  man  who  could 


CROCKETT  ON"  THE  STUMP. 


make  such  entertaining  speeches,  tell  sucR  capital  stories,  and 
then  lead  the  way  to  a  neighboring  bar,  was  the  man  to  represent 
them.  But  Col.  Crockett  was  not  satisfied  with  himself;  he  was 
anxious  to  know  as  much  about  government  as  any  other  repre* 
sentative  of  the  people.  Arrived  at  the  capital  and  duly  recog- 
nized, he  found  his  brother  legislators  continually  introducing 
bills,  and  became  possessed  with  the  idea  that  he  must  do  tho 
flame*  A  friend  drafted  one  for  him^i  and  he  arose  and  confidentllT 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


175 


presented  it  to  the  consideration  of  the  house.  A  member  who 
opposed  it  alluded  to  Col.  Crockett  in  a  disparaging  way  j  but  if 
ever  a  man  regretted  lack  of  courtesy  towards  an  opponent,  this 
one  did  3  for  thus  called  upon  to  answer,  the  mighty  hunter  pour-- 
ed  forth  such  a  flood  of  backwoods  eloquence  that  the  whole  as- 
sembly roared  with  laughter;  he  ended  by  comparing  this  op- 
ponent to  "  an  old  coon  dog  barking  up  the  wrong  tree." 

Before  his  election,  he  had  built  a  large  grist-mill,  with  pow- 
der-mill and  distillery  near  by;  the  buildings  for  these  three 
purposes  costing  about  three  thousand  dollars.  This  was  more 
than  he  had,  but  he  trusted  to  the  profits  of  his  business  to  ena- 
ble him  to  pay  off  the  debt  thus  contracted.  During  his  absence 
at  the  capital,  however,  a  freshet  swept  away  the  buildings,  and 
he  was  ruined.  On  his  return,  his  wife,  much  to  his  pleasure,  said 
to  him : 

Just  pay  up,  as  long  as  you  have' a  bit's  worth  in  the  world  ^ 
then  everybody  will  be  satisfied  and  we  will  scuffle  for  more.'' 

Taking  this  advice,  he  disposed  of  the  negroes  that  he  ow^^ed. 
and  everything  else  available  for  the  purpose,  and  prepare 
go  still  farther  west.  His  new  location  was  near  or  in  that  part 
of  the  country  known  as  the  Shakes,"  from  the  frequent,  though 
light  shocks  felt  there  after  the  New  Madrid  earthquake  of  1812, 
He  was  accompanied  only  by  his  eldest  son,  still  a  boy,  and  a 
young  man.  Building  a  cabin  and  clearing  a  small  space,  he  pul 
in  a  crop  of  corn,  and  while  it  was  growing  indulged  in  his  fav- 
orite sport  of  hunting.  Betsy,"  as  he  called  his  old,  roughly- 
fashioned  rifle,  was  the  companion  of  many  a  long  day  spent  in 
the  woods ;  Betsy  never  told  him  a  lie,  but  always  sent  a  ball 
just  where  he  told  her;  Betsy  killed  six  deer  in  one  day  in  that 
game  abounding  country;  and  during  that  spring  as  many  as  ten 
bears  fell  before  her.  A  called  session  of  the  Legislature  sum- 
moned him  soon  after  he  got  in  his  crop,  and  on  his  return  he 
brought  his  family  to  his  new  home.  The  latter  part  of  October, 
1822,  saw  the  little  family,  with  two  hea.vily  laden  pack-horses,^ 
traveling  yet  farther  into  the  far  "West;"  in  front  of  this  little 
party,  humming  a  song,  walked  a  cheerful,  light-hearted  woods- 
man, carrying  a  child  on  one  arm  and  a  rifle  with  the  other,  and 
followed  by  half  a  dozen  dogs. 

For  two  months  things  went  on  well  at  that  little  cabin  in  the 
woods,  seven  miles  from  the  nearest  house,  and  fifteen  miles  front 
tho  next  nearest  neighboa^*  ^^Betsjr"  kept  them  supplied  with  aii^ 


176 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


abundance  meat;  but  at  last,  near  ChristmaSj  there  was  dan^ 
ger  of  starvation,  for  the  stock  of  powder  gave  out.  "Not  only 
did  it  mean  no  more  game,  but  no  Christmas  guns  could  be  fired. 
Col.  Crockett  knew  that  a  keg  of  powder  had  been  left  at  his 
brother-in-law's  house  for  him,  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  stream 
called  Eutherford's  Fork,  and  determined  to  get  it.  Unusually 
heavy  rains  had  swollen  the  little  river  so  that  it  was  about  a 
mile  wide,  stretching  from  hill  to  hill.  There  were  no  bridges, 
and  either  he  had  no  boat,  or  it  could  not  be  used  in  the  long 
stretch  of  shallow  water.  He  learned  then,^^  to  use  his  own 
words,  how  much  anybody  could  suffer  and  not  die.''  Walking 
for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  through  snow  four  inches  deep,  he 
came  to  that  vast  expanse  of  water.  Through  this  he  waded  and 
swam,  holding  aloft  on  his  gun  the  bundle  of  dry  clothes.  So 
cold  was  he  when  he  emerged,  that,  trying  to  ran,  in  order  to  get 
warm,  he  found  it  impossible  to  move  his  foot  its  own  length. 
But,  as  he  records,  he  got  the  powder,  though  he  was  obliged  to 
stay  three  or  four  days  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  cros{;- 
ing  on  the  ice,  broke  through  more  than  once.  Undaunted  by 
what  he  had  undergone,  as  he  neared  the  home  side  of  the  stream 
he  saw  what  he  thought  was  a  bear's  trail,  and  determined  to 
follow  up  his  favorite  game.  The  animal  had  evidently  broken 
through  the  ice,  and,  disgusted  with  the  cold  bath,  returned  to 
land.  FolloAving  the  trail,  it  led  him  to  his  own  door,  and  proved, 
to  be  that  of  a  young  man  sent  by  his  wife  to  search  for  him ;  her 
intense  anxiety  telling  her  that  he  must  have  been  drowned  or 
frozen. 

A  heavy  rain  that  night,  turning  to  sleet,  was  followed  in  the 
morning  by  the  "  southerly  wind  and  a  cloudy  sky''  so  favorable 
for  hunting,  and  Crockett,  his  brother-in-law,  and  the  young  man 
living  with  him,  started  out.  Before  long  they  separated,  he  pre- 
ferring to  look  for  larger  game  than  they.  Two  wild  turkeys 
were  killed  early  in  the  day  by  Betsy,"  and  with  these  on  his 
shoulder  the  hunter  continued  his  search  for  bears.  The  dogs 
soon  gave  the  alarm,  but  on  looking  up  the  tree  where  they  were 
barking  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  a  turkey  which  had 
flown  away.  The  false  alarm  was  given  several  times,  and  he 
had  about  made  up  his  mind  to  shoot  the  hound  that  was  fore- 
most, when  he  saw  a  bear  of  extraordinary  size.  So  large  was 
he  that  the  dogs  were  afraid  to  attack  him,  and  when  they  had 
seemed  to  be  barking  up  the  wrong  tree,  had  only  been  enticing 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


17? 


tiieir  master  onwards.  So  dark  had  it  grown,  that  he  was  hard- 
ly able  to  see  the  animal,  or  there  would  have  been  less  difficul- 
ty in  despatching  it;  but  after  a  severe  encounter,  in  which  he 
stabbed  the  bear  again  and  again,  and  his  own  clothes  were  torn 
and  covered  with  blood,  the  huge,  clumsy  animal  lay  dead. 

Having  on  hand  a  number  of  skins,  he  set  out,  in  company  with 
his  eldest  son,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  favorite  companion,  to. 
wards  a  town  forty  miles  away,  to  trade  for  groceries.  Here  he 
met  with  some  of  his  old  acquaintances  of  political  life,  who  urged 


CROCKETT'S  FIGHT  WITH  A  BEAR. 


him  to  become  again  a  candidate  for  his  old  office  from  this  new 
district;  but  he  refused  positively  to  do  so. 

^^I  live  down  in  the  cane/^  he  said,  forty  miles  from  town, 
and  nobody  knows  me  in  thio  iistrict  as  they  did  in  the  other/^ 

He  thought  this  was  decisive,  but  it  seems  that  his  old  comrades 
thought  otherwise.  About  a  week  afterwards,  a  passing  traveler 
stopped  at  the  cabin  in  the  cane,  and  showed  the  family  there  a 
newspaper  in  which  CoL  David  Crockett  was  announced  as  a  can 
didate  for  the  Legislature.  It  was  a  clear  case  of  the  office  seek 
ing  the  man,  but  the  man  was  at  first  disposed  to  regard  it  as  a 
joke  that  was  being  played  on  him.    Our  hero  was  never  loatJt, 


178 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


to  enter  into  any  fun.  and  soon  determined  to  have  the  best  of  it. 
Hiring  a  young  man  to  work  on  his  farm,  he  started  out  elec- 
tioneering, and  the  district  soon  rang  with  the  praises  of  the 
great  bear-hunter,  the  man  from  the  cane.  There  had  been  three 
candidates  in  the  field,  but  Crockett  made  things  so  hot  that  in 
March  they  held  a  caucus  to  decide  which  should  remain  in  the 
lists.  The  strength  of  the  three  was  concentrated  on  Dr.  Butler, 
a  nephew  by  marriage  of  the  great  Tennesseean,  Gen.  Jackson. 
Meeting  this  gentleman  at  one  of  the  large  gatherings,  Crockett 
hailed  him  with: 

"Well,  doctor,  I  suppose  they  have  weighed  you  out  to  me  :  but 
I  should  like  to  know  why  they  lixed  your  election  for  March  in- 
stead of  August.  This  is  a  branfire  new  way  of  doing  business,  if 
a  caucus  is  to  make  a  representative  for  the  people/' 

Thinking  to  poke  fun  at  Crockett,  he  answered:  "Where  did 
you  spring  from,  Colonel?'' 

"  O,  I've  just  crept  out  from  the  cane,  to  see  what  discoveries  I 
could  make  among  the  white  people.  You  think  you  have  greatly 
the  advantage  of  me  ;  it's  true  I  live  forty  miles  from  any  settle- 
ment; I  am  very  poor,  and  you  are  very  rich  ;  you  see,  it  takes 
tvv'o  coon-skins  here  to  buy  a  quart,  but  I've  good  dogs,  and  my 
little  boys  at  home  will  go  their  death  to  support  my  election; 
they  are  mighty  industrious  ;  they  hunt  every  night  until  twelve 
o'clock,  but  it  keeps  the  little  fellows  mighty  busy  to  keep  me  in 
whiskey.  When  they  get  tired,  I  takes  my  rifle  and  goes  out 
and  kills  a  wolf,  and  the  state  pays  me  three  dollars  for  the  scalp ; 
so  one  way  or  another  I  keep  knocking  along." 

"Well,  Colonel,"  rejoined  Dr.  Butler,  "T  see  you  can  beat  me 
electioneering." 

"You  don't  call  this  electioneering,  do  you?  When  you  see 
me  electioneering  I  go  fixed  for  it:  I've  got  a  hunting  shirt  with 
two  pockets  in  it  that  will  hold  half  a  peck  apiece;  and  I  puts 
a  bottle  in  one,  and  a  big  plug  in  the  other,  for  I  never  like  to 
leave  a  man  worse  off'  'n  I  found  him.  When  I  meets  a  friend,  T 
gives  him  a  pull  at  the  bottle;  he'll  be  mighty  apt,  before  he 
drinks,  to  throw  away  his  tobacco;  so  when  he's  done,  I  pulls 
out  my  big  twist  a;nd  gives  him  a  chaw.  Then  he  ain't  likely  to 
find  fault,  as  he  would  if  he'd  a  lost  his  tobacco;  and  I'll  be 
mighty  apt  to  get  his  vote,  I  reckon." 

But  this  entire  absence  of  pretense,  this  blunt  acknowledgment 
of  bluntness,  was  the  most  successful  kind  of  electioneering.  The 


COLONEL  DAVil)  CHOCKETT. 


17U 


crowd  was  in  a  roar  of  laughter  at  the  discomfitUA  3  of  the  elo- 
quent gentleman,  and  the  rough  humor  of  the  backwoodsman. 
Nor  did  their  admiration  at  all  diminish  ^  it  carried  him  safely 
through  the  election,  his  majority  over  all  three  candidates  (two 
others  had  come  out  between  March  and  August)  being  nearly 
two  hundred  and  fifty. 

He  served  this  time  in  the  Legislature  for  two  years,  1823  and 
1824.  In  the  earlier  part  of  his  term,  his  independence  of  party 
trammels  and  soldiers^  prejudices  was  manifested  by  his  vote  fo] 
U.  S.  Senator,  when  the  candidates  were  Senator  Miller  and  Gen. 
Jackson.  Mr.  Miller  had  served  the  state  well,  and  even  the  en- 
thusiasm of  a  soldier  for  his  old  commander,  of  a  Tennesscear 
for  Andrew  Jackson,  could  not  make  David  Crockett  vote  against 
one  whom  he  knew  to  be  well  qualified.  But  while  this  course 
preserved  his  self-respect,  it  lost  him  many  friends,  and  may  have 
assisted,  two  years  later,  to  cause  his  political  defeat.  But  ter 
years  afterwards  he  would  not  acknowledge  himself  in  the  wrong 

The  defeat  mentioned  was  in  this  way  :  urged  to  run  for  Cong 
ress,  he  at  first  refused,  but  was  afterw^ards  induced  to  consent 
The  representative  at  that  time  was  the  opposing  candidate,  anc 
by  reason  of  a  factitious  popularity  arising  from  the  increase 
in  the  price  of  cotton  and  his  vote  on  the  tariff  question,  succeed 
ed  in  beating  the  gentlemen  from  the  cane''  by  two  votes.  Manj 
persons  believed  that  the  election  had  not  been  fairly  conducted 
the  action  of  one  ofiicer,  at  least,  in  charge  of  a  ballot-box,  giving 
room  for  suspicion;  but  so  far  was  Col.  Crockett  from  wishing  tc 
contest  the  election,  that  he  said  to  some  friends  who  represent 
ed  that  he  would  probably  secure  the  seat  in  that  way  :  ^^If  it  h 
not  the  wish  of  the  people,  clearly  expressed,  I  don't  want  to  serve 
them." 

Back  to  his  farm,  then,  he  went,  and  occupied  his  time  in  work- 
ing  there,  and  in  his  favorite  pursuit  of  bear  hunting.  In  the  fall 
of  1825,  he  concluded  to  build  two  large  boats  and  load  them  with 
pipe-staves  for  market,  but  met  with  characteristic  interruptions. 
Working  steadily  on  until  the  bears  got  fat,  he  started  out  on  a 
hunting  tour,  in  order  to  supply  his  family  with  meat  for  the 
winter.  Hardly  has  this  been  salted  down,  and  the  hunter  set- 
tled to  boat-building  again,  when  a  neighbor,  living  some  twenty- 
five  miles  away,  came  to  ask  him  to  go  bear-hunting  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  As  may  be  imagined,  Crockett  readily  consent 
ed,  and  they  set  out  together.    During  an  absence  of  two  weeks^ 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


they  killed  fifteen  hears,  thus  supplying  the  neighbor's  family 
with  tkair  winter  meat.  ISTor  was  this  the  only  hunt  undertaken 
for  others.  Eeturning  home,  he  worked  for  ^  while  on  the  boats, 
and  in  getting  staves,  but  before  many  days  longed  for  the  com- 
panionship of  Betsy.  Starting  out  with  his  little  son,  the  first 
day  they  disposed  of  eight  bears.  While  the  two  wer^  looking 
for  water  and  a  good  place  to  camp,  they  came  upon  a  poor  fel- 
low who  was  grubbing,  as  it  turned  out,  for  another  man,  in  or- 
der to  earn  meat  for  his  family.  Crockett,  knowing  what  hard 
and  poorly  paid  work  this  was,  induced  the  man  to  accompany 
him  on  his  hunt,  and  assist  in  salting  down  the  flesh  of  the  ani- 
mals that  they  should  kill.  During  the  week  they  killed  seven- 
teen bears,  the  grubber  being  enriched  with  over  a  thousand 
pounds  of  excellent  meat.  Hardly  had  Crockett  returned  home, 
when  he  started  out  again  to  hunt  with  a  neighbor.  Such  an  invi- 
tation was  never  refused,  whatever  reasons  there  may  have  been 
for  remaining  at  home ;  his  love  of  the  sport  and  his  obliging 
good  nature  rendered  it  impossible  to  say  no,  when  any  man  said  i 
Come  and  hunt  bears  for  me.'^ 

But  hunting  was  over  for  the  season,  and  Crockett  was  free  to 
attend  to  his  business.    Having  about  thirty  thousand  staves  and 
two  good  boats,  he  engaged  a  crew,  and  set  off  to  New  Orleans. 
When  they  got  upon  the  Mississippi,  and  found  that  the  pilot  was 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  treacherous  stream,  all  were  considerably 
alarmed ;  the  brave  hunter,  according  to  his  own  candid  confes- 
sion, believing  himself  a  little  worse  scared  than  anybody  else, 
Lashing  the  boats  together  for  greater  safety,  they  only  made 
matters  worse  by  rendering  them  unmanageable,  and  were  oblig- 
1        ed  to  let  the  current  carry  them  whither  it  would.    Then  it  was 
(        that  the  superior  safety  and  pleasure  of  bear-hunting  became  more 
apparent  to  him  who  had  never  doubted.    Sitting  in  the  little 
cabin  of  the  hinder  boat  (  for  since  they  were  lashed  together 
/  they  went  broad-side  down  the  stream)  he  heard  great  confusion 

among  the  crew.  The  current  had  carried  the  two  boats  against 
an  island,  where  great  quantities  of  driftwood  had  lodged,  and  the 
next  thing  would  be  the  submergence  of  the  upper  boat.  This 
was  already  turned  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  out  at  the 
hatchway,  and  the  only  other  means  of  exit,  a  hole  at  the  side 
was  very  small.  The  eff'orts  of  the  crew  to  rescue  their  com 
mander  were  successful,  however,  and  he  was  pulled  through  this, 
hole;  although  his  shirt  was  torn  from  him,  and  his  body  verj 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


181 


oiuch  abraded.  Hardly  had  he  touched  the  other  boat  when  that 
from  which  he  had  just  escaped  was  drawn  under  the  seething 
mass  of  yellow  water.  All  night  they  were  on  that  raft  of  drift- 
wood,  four  of  them  bare-headed,  three  of  them  bare- footed,  our 
hero  being  one  of  these  last.    So  great  was  his  sense  of  gratitude 


^mPWRECIvED  ON  THE  RIVER. 


for  life,  however,  his  relief  at  the  escape  from  the  immediate  dan- 
ger, that  he  almost  forgot  the  discomforts  of  his  position,  and 
felt  prime/' 

Early  in  the  morning  they  hailed  a  passing  boat,  which  sent  a 
skiff  to  their  relief.  On  this  boat  they  returned  to  Memphis, 
where  a  friend  in  need  provided  them  with  clothes  and  money 
for  the  rest  of  their  journey.  Having  lost  his  boats  and  their 
lading,  all  his  clothes  but  those  that  he  wore,  and  nearly  lost  his 
life,  Crockett  arrived  at  home,  thoroughly  disgusted  with  boat- 
ing, and  gave  himself  up  to  electioneering,  as  anothei'  represen- 
tative in  the  national  councils  was  to  fee  chosen  the  AugusL 

There  were  three  principal  candidates  in  the  dis^iot  where 
our  interest  centers ;  one  being  Col.  Alexander,  and  aii<>ttLer,  G-en- 
eral  Arnold.    These  two  gentlemen  seemed  to  regard  themselves 


182 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


as  the  only  important  candidates,  replying  to  each  other's  cam- 
paign speeches  at  considerable  length,  and  thinking  beneath 
their  notice  the  third  man,  the  bear-hunter.  But  the  people  knew 
that  as  surely  as  the  muddy  Mississippi's  alluvial  deposits  enrich- 
ed their  land,  this  untaught  son  of  the  backwoods  was  the  best 
man  to  protect  their  interests,  and  by  an  overwhelming  majority 
at  the  polls  rebuked  the  conceit  of  his  more  polished  competitors. 

His  fame  as  a  humorist  had  preceded  him,  and  if  an  anonymous 
biographer,  writing  about  1832,  is  to  be  believed,  hotel-keepers 
and  transportation  companies  considered  him  such  an  attraction 
that  each  was  anxious  to  secure  his  patronage.  But  although  his 
ready  humor  was  the  foundation  of  his  fame,  his  time  at  the  na- 
tional capitol  was  not  spent  idly.  Faithful,  hard  work  for  his 
constituents  was  his  idea  of  his  duty,  and  he  endeavored  to  carry 
it  out.  The  details  would  be  of  interest  only  to  the  historian  of 
that  section  of  Tennessee  at  that  particular  period  ;  but  the  gene- 
ral fact  is  of  importance  to  his  biographer.  His  efforts  were 
chiefly  directed  to  those  internal  improvements  which  he  knew 
were  so  much  needed  in  his  district,  and  it  was  a  great  disap- 
pointment to  find  that  Gen.  Jackson  was  not  in  sympathy  with 
.him.  Coming  from  his  backwoods  cabin  in  Tennessee  to  be  a 
courted  guest  in  Washington  society,  where  the  originality  of  his 
character  was  fully  appreciated,  received  at  the  White  House  by 
the  Chief  Executive,  the  sudden  change  did  not  dazzle  him.  Close 
observation  of  others  taught  him  the  manners  of  those  in  his  new 
position,  and  the  graces  of  the  society  gentleman  sat  easily  upon 
the  bear  hunter.  Still,  through  all,  the  fact  was  apparent  that 
this  polish  intensified  the  luster  of  a  true  jewel,  instead  of  giving 
false  value  to  a  pebble.  A  man^s  a  man  for  a'  that/'  and 
he  defended  the  manhood  in  him  by  opposing  his  old  commander 
whom  he  thought  in  the  wrong.  This  was  highly  resented  b}- 
his  constituents,  and  many  politicians  and  newspapers  devoted  to 
Jackson  so  exaggerated  his  defection  that  at  the  next  election  he 
was  defeated  by  a  small  majority. 

He  had  served  two  consecutive  terms  in  Congress,  returning 
to  the  plow  after  each  session  as  calmly  as  ever  did  Cincinnatus 
or  our  own  Washington;  and  when  the  verdict  of  the  people  was 
made  known  to  him  after  his  election  in  1880,  he  coolly  accepted 
the  situation,  and  went  on  with  his  work.  Every  effort  had  been 
made  by  Jackson's  worshipers  to  secure  his  defeat  at  this  time, 
but  success  did  not  satisfy  ^em.    Gerrymandering  secured  such 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


183 


a  division  of  his  old  district  at  the  next  session  of  the  Legislature 
that  it  seemed  to  them  that  the  next  election  would  give  them  an 
easy  victory ;  but  they  reckoned  without  their  host.  Their  pre- 
vious success  had  been  partly  due  to  their  practice  of  making  ap- 
pointments for  Crockett  to  speak,  and  carefully  keeping  it  from 
him;  at  the  time  set,  his  opponents  would  rise  and  say  to  the 
crowd  that  had  assembled,  that  he  had  refused  to  speak,  being 
afraid  of  the  result.  He  only  heard  of  their  pursuing  this  course 
when  it  was  too  late  to  counteract  it,  and  the  result  was  his  de* 
feat.  Before  the  next  election,  however,  the  minds  of  men  were 
calmer,  and  ready  to  listen  to  both  sides  of  the  question ;  and 
the  result  was  an  easy  victory  for  Crockett. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  Washington  after  the  beginning  of  his 
third  term  when  his  physician  advised  him  to  take  a  pleasure- 
trip  for  the  benefit  of  his  health.  So  well  had  he  been  pleased 
with  his  brother  members  from  the  northern  part  of  the  country 
that  he  determined  to  see  them  in  their  homes.  Baltimore  was 
visited  on  his  journey  northward,  the  strange  sight  of  a  railway 
train  here  meeting  his  eyes  for  the  first  time.  Approaching  Phil- 
adelphia by  water,  he  was  on  dock  when  three  flags  were  run  up. 
He  enquired  the  meaning. 

O/'  said  the  captain,  Fd  promised  some  friends  to  let  them 
know  if  you  were  on  board. 

To  the  man  who,  on  reaching  Baltimore,  had  recognized  a 
great  city  as  a  place  where  any  one  would  be  made  to  feel  his 
own  unimportance,  this  was  a  revelation.  The  idea  that  any  one 
should  care  about  his  coming  to  this  strange  place  was  astonish- 
ing. As  the  boat  neared  the  shore,  he  saw  one  vast  sea  of  up- 
turned faces  a  gesture  from  the  captain  pointed  out  to  them  the 
Jiion  of  the  day  and  a  rousing  cheer  for  Davy  Crockett  saluted 
his  ears. 

Grive  us  the  hand  of  an  honest  man,^'  cried  the  people,  crowd- 
ing around  him  as  he  stepped  on  shore.  But  this  recognition  was 
not  all  that  awaited  him.  The  most  cordial  hospitality  of  the- 
Quaker  City  was  extended  to  him  by  her  most  honored  sons.  The 
anti  Jackson  man  from  Tennessee  was  hailed  with  delight  by  the 
Whigs  of  the  North,  who  greeted  his  defection  from  his  party  as 
an  evidence  of  that  party's  weakness.  Speech  after  speech  from 
him  was  demanded  by  the  crowd  wherever  he  went,  and  although 
he  often  tried  to  escape  their  importunity,  his  good-nature  al- 
ways yielded.    Some  gentlemen  presented  him  with  a  seal  val- 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


tied  at  forty  dollars  ;  the  device  being  two  race-horses,  evidently 
at  the  top  of  their  speed,  and  the  motto  that  to  which  our  hero 
had  clung,  whether  bear-hunting  or  law-making,  whether  cling- 
ing, half-naked,  through  the  winter  night,  to  a  raft  of  driftwood 
in  the  Mississippi,  or  fitting,  an  honored  guest,  at  the  President's 
table :  Gro  ahead/'  'i^radition  has  it,  that  when  a  suitor  of  his 
daughter  approached  him  by  letter,  about  this  time,  he  replied: 
Dear       :  I  have  received  your  letter.    Go  ahead. 

David  Crockett/' 

Whether  this  were  known  at  the  time  or  not,  the  motto  was 
generally  recognized  as  suited  to  the  man,  and  the  seal  was  cop- 
ied by  many  of  his  fellow  Congressmen.  A  club  of  young  Whigs, 
desiring  to  present  him  with  a  handsome  rifle,  secured  from  him 
directions  as  to  the  size  and  kind  that  he  preferred,  and  the  or- 
der was  given  to  the  manufacturer.  Dinners  were  tendered  him 
in  abundance,  and  everywhere  the  greatest  eagerness  to  entertain 
liim  prevailed.  In  New  York  the  same  flattering  reception 
xwai-ted  him,  and  Boston  did  not  lag  behind  her  sister  cities.  An 
invitation  to  visit  Harvard,  however,  he  flatly  refused  to  accept. 
The  authorities  of  that  institution  had  recently  conferred  upon 
President  Jackson  the  title  of  doctor  of  laws  ;  Crockett  claimed 
tO  possess  no  degree  and  to  wish  for  none  but  a  slight  degree  of 
3ommon-sense  one  such  doctor  was  enough  for  the  state;  the 
people  of  his  district  interpreted  LL.  D.  as  ^^lazy,  lounging 
iunce  /'  and  he  had  no  mind  to  run  the  risk  of  going  to  Cambridge, 
ilthough  he  would  spell  with  any  of  them  as  far  as  crucifix,'' 
fvhere  he  had  left  oif  at  schooL 

Eeturning  to  Washington,  he  served  the  remainaer  of  his  term, 
md  started  home  in  good  spirits  with  the  handsome  rifle  which 
iiad  been  presented  to  him.  His  course  was  rather  a  round-about 
one,  as  he  took  Philadelphia,  Pittsburgh  and  Louisville  on  the 
way,  but  he  was  none  the  less  glad  to  get  home  to  his  little  cab- 
in  in  the  cane— his  own  home,  his  own  land,  his  own  beloved 
ones.  Here  he  lived,  until  the  congressional  campaig^n  of  18S5 
opened,  when  he  again  took  the  field  against  a  Jackson  man,  ' 
This  was  Adam  Huntsman,  a  crippled  soldier,  whose  services  were 
made  much  of  to  the  voters  of  the  district.  This  nomination  was 
secured  by  a  practical  joke,  which  illustrat'CS  the  readj  wit  of  : 
the  great  hunter. 

Strolling  up  to  a  political  meeting  one  day,  with  his  rifle  on 
hi«  shoulder^,  Crockett  was  soon  addressing  the  crowd.   The  free  ] 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


185 


and  independent  voters  lost  nc  time  in  informing  him  that  lis- 
tening speeches  was  dry  work,  and  that  there  was  plenty  of 
liquor  in  a  shanty  near  by.  This  had  been  built  by  a  Yankee, 
and  stocked  for  that  special  occasion.  So  experienced  a  canvass- 
er as  Crockett  took  the  hint  immediately,  and  leading  the  W3y 
to  Job  Snelling's  bar,  called  for  a  quart;  that  worthy  called  his 
attention  to  a  sign :  Pay  to-day,  trust  to-morrow,''  and  refused 
to  fill  the  order  without  the  money.  This  Crockett  did  not  have, 
and  the  crowd  that  had  gathered  around  him  rapidly  dispersed 
to  seek  his  better  provided  rival.  But  although  he  was  without 
money,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  ready  subsxitute.  Plung- 
ing into  the  woods,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  see,  in  a  very 
short  time,  a  fine  fat  coon.  A  well-aimed  shot  secured  the  prize, 
and  back  to  the  crowd  he  went.  A  coon-skin  is  not  money,  but 
was  then  and  there  recognized  as  the  equivalent  of  a  quart  of 
rum,  so  that  when  Crockett  threw  it  upon  the  rough  counter, 
Snelling,  without  any  hesitation,  set  out  a  bottle.  This  was  soon 
disposed  of,  and  the  crowd  listened  to  the  speaker.  They  soon 
became  clamorous  for  more  liquor,  however,  and  Davy,  reflect- 
ing how  long  his  speech  must  last  if  he  had  to  go  and  kill  a  coon 
so  often,  led  the  way  to  the  bar.  His  quick  eye  and  ready  wit 
found  him  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty;  Snelling  had  thrown  the 
coon  skin  under  the  counter,  and  Crockett,  drawing  it  thence  by 
the  tail,  which  protruded  beyond  the  logs,  gravely  presented  it 
in  payment  for  a  second  quart.  Job  was  not  at  all  popular  in  that 
country,  as  he  was  always  on  the  alert  to  make  money  off  the  peo- 
ple, and  this  they  did  not  relish ;  so,  though  the  trick  was  seen  by 
many,  no  one  betrayed  the  joker.  The  story  circulated  through 
the  assembly,  and  made  the  liquor  all  the  better.  Again  and 
again  did  they  drink,  the  same  coon-skin  serving  for  payment, 
until,  at  the  close  of  the  day,  ten  quarts  of  rum  had  been  con- 
sumed. The  story  went  the  rounds  of  the  district,  and  the  people 
concluded  that  a  man  sharp  einough  to  trick  Job  Snelling  was  a 
better  man  to  lo^ok  after  their  interests  than  a/^ny  war-worn  vet- 
eran that  ever  lost  a  leg.  After  the  election,  Crockett  went  pri- 
vately to  Snelling  and  offered  him  the  price  of  the  rum. 

Wal,  necw.  Colonel,''  responded  that  honest  individual,  I 
gUJdss  I  won't  take  your  money.  You  see,  I  like  to  be  tricked 
OTwrn  in  awhile;  it  keeps  me  from  gittin'  to  think  I'm  tew  all-fir- 
ed gmart." 

He  had  charged  the  nine  quarts  to  the  other  candidate,  who 


186 


COLONEL  DAVxjD  CROCKETT. 


paid  the  bill,  not  knowing  exactly  how  much  might  have  been 
drunk  at  his  expense. 

Contrary  to  all  expectation,  however,  Crockett  was  beaten  by 
over  two  hundred  votes.  This  was  attributed  by  him  to  unfair- 
ness of  the  judges,  and  to  bribery  by  certain  enthusiastic  Jackson 
men.  Even  at  that  early  day,  the  charge  of  corruption  was  not 
unheard  or  unfounded ;  and  even  the  President  could  stoop  to 
electioneer  for  a  dependent.  Nor  was  the  unsuccessful  candi- 
date at  all  backward  at  expressing  his  opinions  to  his  late  consti- 
tuents ;  he  told  them  what  he  thought  about  the  fairness  of  the 
election,  and  warned  them  of  the  ruin  towards  which  the  country 
was  going,  as  directed  by  Jackson  and  the  Little  Flying  Dutch- 
man/' Van  Buren;  concluding  by  telling  them  to  go  to — Hades 
(  only  he  didn't  use  the  Greek  )  and  he  wox^ld  go  to  Texas. 

Settling  up  his  affairs  as  well  as  he  could,  and  leaving  his  fam- 
ily well  provided  with  food,  he  started  out  with  his  trusty  rifle, 
to  join  in  the  struggle  of  the  Texan  patriots  for  freedom.  Cor- 
dially received  and  well  entertained  at  Little  Rock,  where  he 
stopped  for  a  few  days,  he  proceeded  on  his  journey.  Embark- 
ing on  a  steamboat  upon  the  Eed  Eiver,  he  watched  a  game  of 
thimble-rig,  and  Anally  made  a  bet  with  the  trickster.  Winning 
this,  he  refused  to  play  any  more,  but  by  degrees  acquired  con- 
siderable influence  over  the  man.  Crockett  learned  that  he  had 
been  educated  as  a  gentleman,''  and  suddenly  thrown  on  his 
own  resources.  One  disreputable  way  of  earning  a  livelihood 
had  succeeded  another,  until  now,  when  he  earned  a  scanty  living 
by  this  mode  of  cheating.  Crockett  took  him  to  task  in  a  friend- 
ly manner,  and  tried  to  shame  him  out  of  his  evil  practices,  but 
he  answered  that  it  it  was  of  no  use  to  try;  he  could  not  live  like 
an  honest  man. 

^'  Then  die  like  a  brave  one,"  exclaimed  his  enthusiastic  men- 
tor. ^^Most  men  are  remembered  as  they  died,  and  not  as  they 
lived.  Come  with  me  to  Texas;  cut  aloof  from  your  degrading 
habits  and  associates  here,  and  in  fighting  with  the  Texans  for 
their  freedom,  regain  your  own." 

Starting  up,  and  striding  two  or  three  times  across  the  room, 
the  outcast  stopped  before  his  friend,  and  answered,  with  an 
oath : 

I'll  be  a  man  again — Jive  honestly,  or  die  bravely.  I'll  go 
with  you  to  Texas." 

He  held  to  this  resolution,  and  Crockett  being  determiiied,  as 


COLONEL  DAVID   CROCKETT.  " 

usual,  to  "go  ahead/'  they  set  out  in  company  eanv  in  the  morn- 
ing after  their  landing.  Stopping  at  night  at  a  small  tavern, 
they  noticed,  leaning  against  a  tree,  what  might  be  called  a  back- 
woods dandy.  This  v/as  the  "Bee-hunter/'  introduced  to  them 
imore  favorably  b}^  the  little  incident  that  occurred  early  in  the 


morning,  A  blustering^  swaggering  fellow,  who  imagined  that 
the  young  man  had^  on  some  previous  occasion,  insulted  him,  ap- 
proached him  with  the  most  offensive  expressions.  The  Bee- 
hunter  gave  hi-m  no  satisfaction  for  a  long  time,  but  at  last, 
springing  upon  him,  carried  him  to  the  pump,  and  there  washed 


18t 


COLONEL  DAVID  Cr.OCKETT, 


all  the  fight  ont  of  him  by  a  stream  of  water.  With  this  here 
Crockett  and  Thimblerig  concluded  to  travel,  especially  when 
they  found  that  he  was  an  excellent  guide  across  the  prairies. 

The  trio  was  soon  separated,  howjver  •  theBe^^-hunter  rode  off 
suddenly,  and  apparently  without  cause  j  Crockett,  soon  after- 
Ward,  saw  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  and  gave  chase,  and  poo^^  Thim- 


,t)ESFERATE  FIGHT  WITH  A  COLGAH. 


Merig  was  ieft  alone  on  the  prairie.  The  buffaloes  proved  too 
swift  for  Crockett's  mustang,  and  although  he  might  have  easily 
retraced  his  steps,  it  was  always  his  principle  to  go  ahead,  and 
he  would  not  turn  back.  Concluding  that  it  would  be  impos* 
sible  for  him  to  return  that  night,  he  looked  about  him  for  a 
lodging  place,  and  had  selected  the  leafy  branches  of  a  tree,  pros- 
trated by  a  •'"^^ent  storm  when  a  low  growl  warned  him  thai^it 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


was  already  occupied.  In  a  moment  more  an  immense  Mexican 
cougar  showed  itself.  Finding  a  ball  from  his  rifle  produced 
but  little  effect,  Crockett  clubbed  his  gun,  but  all  his  strength 
was  not  sufficient  for  the  destruction  of  the  animal.  Seizing  his 
hunting-knife,  he  slashed  away  at  the  creature,  that,  mad  with 
the  wound,  fought  as  only  a  cougar  could ;  but  at  last  it  was 
stretched  dead  at  his  feet.  Hardly  had  this  enemy  been  despatched 
than  he  was  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  a  large  party  of  Indians ; 
but  they  proved  friendly,  and  guided  him  back  to  the  route.  As 
they  approached  a  camp,  they  saw,  seated  by  the  fire,  a  solitary 
man  busily  engaged  in  some  absorbing  pastime.  Drawing  nearer, 

Crockett  recognized  Thimble- 
rig  at  his  old  occupation.  The 
chief  sounded  the  war-whoop, 
the  warriors  echoed  it,  aiad 
poor  Thimblerig  sprang  to  his 
feet  in  terror.  Crockett  reassur- 
ed him,  and  the  Indians  rode 
off,  the  chief  happy  in  the  gift 
of  a  bowie-knife  from  a  white 
man  whom  he  knew  by  the  ad- 
venture with  the  cougar  to  be 
a  brave  and  skillful  hunter. 
The  Bee-hunter,  Thimblerig 
GENERAL  COS.  Said,  had  returned  laden  with 

honey ;  his  apparently  inexplicable  conduct  being  explained  by  his 
having  seen  a  single  bee  winging  its  way  to  the  hive;  he  was  now 
hunting,  in  order  to  obtain  meat  for  their  supper,  and  soon  re- 
turned to  the  camp  with  a  wild  turkey.  Having  cooked  this,  they 
were  at  supper  with  two  others  who  had  joined  their  party,  when 
a  company  of  fifteen  or  twenty  horsemen  appeared  at  a  distance. 
The  announcement  from  one  of  the  strangers  that  these  were 
Mexicans  was  followed  by  his  description  of  them  as  ruflianly 
cowards.  This  was  borne  out  by  their  conduct  when  the  Ameri- 
cans returned  their  first  fire.  Flying  like  a  cloud  before  the  wind, 
they  were  pursued  in  hot  haste,  but  succeeded  in  eluding  the 
chase.  Being  now  in  sight  of  the  independent  flag  flying  over  the 
fortress  of  the  Alamo,  our  three  heroes  bent  their  way  thither, 
and  were  welcomed  by  the  shouts  of  the  patriots. 

The  garrison  of  only  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  wap 
commanded  by  Col.  Travis,  the  famous  Col.  Bowie  bein^  alst^ 


COLONEL  DAVIJJ  CROCKETT. 


present.  The  Mexican  general,  Santa  Anna,  was  extremely  anx- 
ious  to  obtain  possession  of  the  fortress  again,  as  he  considered 
its  surrender  to  the  Texans  early  in  December,  1835,  extremely 
disgraceful,  although  General  Cos  had  been  allowed  to  state  his 
own  terms  of  capitulation.  The  Americans  even  then  were  ex- 
pecting an  attack,  an  anticipation  only  too  well  realized.  Wan- 
dering hunters  brought  information  of  the  movements  of  an  at- 
tacking force.  February  22,  1836,  about  sixteen  hundred  Jlexi- 
^cans,  headed  by  Santa  Anna  himself,  approached  within  two 


STOKMING  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

miles  of  the  Alamo.  The  scouts  reported  that  the  assailants  liad 
endeavored  tb  excite  the  Indians  to  hostilities  against  the  Am  er- 
icans,  but  that  the  ©omanches  held  the  Mexicans  in  such  con- 
tempt that  these  efforts  were  of  no  avail.  Early  on  the  morning 
of  the  twenty-third,  the  enemy  came  in  sight,  marching  in  reg- 
ular order,  and  trying  to  display  their  force  to  the  greatest  pos- 
sible advantage,  to  terrify  the  garrison.  But  men  who  take  up 
arms  to  fight  for  liberty  are  not  easily  frightened,  and  the  gar- 
rison withdrew  in  good  order  from  the  town  to  the  citadel,  re* 
solving  to  defend  it  to  the  last..  All  their  stores  had  been  taken 
there  on  the  first  alarm.  The  Texan  flag  was  raised — thirteen 
stripes  of  red  and  white  alternating  on  a  blue  ground,  with  a 
large  white  star  and  the  word  Texas  in  the  center. 


OOLUNEL   JJAVii^  CKUCKETT. 


191 


The  enemy  marched  into  the  town  under  a  flag  whose  bloody 
hue  proclaimed  the  merciless  treatment  that  would  be  the  lot  of 
the  patriots,  if  they  surrendered.  A  messenger  came  in  the  af- 
ternoon to  demand  an  unconditional  and  immediate  surrender, 
but  was  answered  by  a  cannon-shot.  The  Mexicans  replied  to 
this  by  a  heavy  fire,  which  was  continued  for  many  days.  The 
Texan  sharp-shooters  made  considerable  havoc  among  the  Mex- 


DEFENCE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

icans,  and  were  unhurt  by  their  cannonading.  Daily  reinforce- 
ments came  to  the  enemy,  but  the  garrison,  hoping  for  aid  from 
two  places,  Goliad  and  Eefugio,  to  which  messengers  had  been 
sent,  kept  up  hope.  On  the  third  of  March,  however,  they  de« 
:paired  of  assistance  from  without,  and  Col.  Travis  exhorted 
them,  in  case  the  enemy  should  carry  the  fort,  to  fight  to  the  last 
gasp,  and  render  the  victory  as  serious  to  the  victors  as  to  the 
vanquished.    Three  hearty  cheers  approved  thife  course. 

On  the  following  day  the  messenger  who  had  been  despatched 
to  Goliad  and  Eefugio  v/as  seen  running  toward  the  fort  hard 
pressed  by  half  a  dozen  of  the  Mexican  cavalry.  Crockett,  the 
Bee-hunter  and  two  others,  sallied  out  to  his  relief,  and  after  a 
slight  skirmish  with  the  pursuers,  chased  them  so  far,  in  the  aiN 


COLONEL  DAVIi-  CEOCKETT. 


dor  of  th^  moment,  that  their  retreat  was  cut  oif  by  another  body 
of  cavalry,  which  got  between  them  and  the  fort.  There  was  no 
course  open  to  the  Americans  but  to  fight  their  way  through* 
Go  ahead  V  shouted  Col.  Crockett.  There  were  al&3ut  twenty 
of  the  Mexicans,  and  they  fought  savagely  until  a  larger  detach- 
ment issued  from  the  fort,  when  they  retreated,  le»aving  eight 
dead  upon  the  field.  The  messenger  and  the  Bee-hunter  were 
mortally  wounded,  the  former  dying  before  they  entered  the 
fort.  The  latter,  whose  songs  and  jests  had  s©  often  ra.ised  the 
spirits  of  the  garrison,  as  his  manly,  unassuming  piety  had  ex- 
cited their  admiration,  died  about  midnight,  a  sigh  for  his  be- 
trothed escaping  him  as  he  sang: 

"  But  toom  cam'  tlie  saddle,  all  bludy  to  see, 
And  kame  cam'  the  steed,  but  Imme  ©ever  earn'  he." 

It  was  the  last  song  she  had  sung  to  him,  before  he  left  her  for 
the  Alamo. 

The  autobiography  of.  David  Crocke#l  is  the  principal  source 
of  information  in  regard  to  these  last  days  in  the  ferl^ress.  Un- 
der the  date  of  March  5,  1S36,  we  find  this  entry: 

^^Pop,  pop,  pop!  Boom,  boom,  boom!  throughout  the  day 
ho  time  for  memorandums  now.  G-o  ahead !  Liberty  and  inde. 
pendence  forever ! 

That  is  the  last.  Before  daybreak,  on  iim  sixth,  the  wh©l€ 
Mexican  force  assaulted  the  fortre;^s,  Santa  Anna  coMmandimg, 
The  battle  raged  fiercely  until  daylight,  whem  omly  six  meaa,  ®f 
whom  Col.  Crockett  was  one,  wer^  left  alive  im  tfee  fort.  These 
were  surrounded,  and,  knowing  resistaiice  was  useless,  were 
compelled  to  yield.  Gen.  Caj^trillan,  to  whom  they  surren- 
dered, was  brave  but  not  cruel,  and  wishing  to  save  the  prison- 
ers, went  to  Santa  Anna  to  ask  for  orders.  2Co  f  marter,^^  had 
been  the  command,  but  Ca^strillon  Ii©pe4  tkat  theise  few  might  be 
spared.  With  ste^?,d3^  and  firm  step  Col.  Or^^Qtt  followed  the 
humaner  Mexican  to  his  superior's  pr^^^,  leaking  foil  and 
fearlessly  into  the  cruel  commander's  eye. 

Your  excellency,"  said  Cas^illom,  "  h#re  are  six  prisoBcrs  I 
have  taken  alive;  how  shall  I  dispose  of  thetaf 

Looking  at  the  general  fiercely,  Santa  Anna  i\nswered,  in  a 
violent  rage : 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  how  to  dispose  of  them?    Why  do  you 
bring  them  to  me  ?  " 
Ihe  murderous  cr®w  around  him  wanted  no  other  orders  to 


194 


COLONEL  DAvID  CROCKETT. 


fall  upon  the  defenseless  prisoners.  Col.  Crockett  sprang  for- 
ward like  a  tiger  at  the  ruffian,  but  a  dozen  swords  wore  sheath- 
ed in  his  heart.  Without  a  groan,  with  a  frown  upon  kis  brow, 
but  a  smile  on  his  lips,  he  died. 

This  is,  for  us,  the  end  of  the  story.  With  that  battle,  when 
the  Texans,  crying  "  Eemember  the  Alamo,''  swept  down  like  a 
hurricane  upon  the  Mexicans,  with  their  final  triumph  in  the 
struggle  for  independence,  and  subsequent  annexation  to  the 
United  States,  we  have  nothing  to  do.  The  sixth  of  March,  1836, 
ends  the  life  of  an  honest  man,  who  served  his  country  as  best 
he  could,  who  never  refused  to  serve  a  fellow-creature,  and  who 
died  fighting  for  another  people. 

•*  Ikch  of  the  heroes  around  thee  had  fought  for  his  land  md  hm  liae^ 
Bat  thou  hast  fought  for  a  stranger,  in  hate  of  a  wrong  not  tMae.*' 


MOITUMENT  TO  THE  DBf'Eia)EiiS  &F  THX  ALASKA 


CHAPTER  IX. 
GENEEAL  SAM  HOUSTON. 

THE  AUSTINS. 

THE  first  white  men  who  descended  the  Mississippi  doubtless 
looked  with  surprise  upon  the  stream,  when,  for  the  first  time, 
they  saw  a  turbid  flood  mingling  with  its  crystal  waters.  Side  by 
side  the  golden  river  of  the  western  mountains  and  the  blue  wa- 
ters from  the  north  flow  for  miles,  blending  at  last  into  one 
stream,  truly  the  Father  of  Waters.  The  swift  current  carried 
them  on,  and  the  meeting  of  the  two  rivers  was  well-nigh  forgot- 
ten. The  mystery  was  not  to  be  solved  by  men  who  had  never 
ascended  the  Missouri  to  its  native  mountains,  and  in  ignorance 
of  its  nature  they  passed  on. 

When  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life  unites  his  fortunes  to  those  of 
a  state  struggling  for  independence,  and  becomes  a  leader  in 
peace  and  war,  the  earlier  fortunes  of  each  must  be  followed,  in 
order  that  their  union  and  its  results  may  be  understood.  As  the 
color  of  the  Missouri  is  given  to  the  lower  Mississippi,  so  the  hero 
affects  the  time  in  which  he  lives;  and  the  history  of  the  state 
gives  him  another  dignity  than  he  would  have  had  alone,  as  sure- 
ly as  the  northern  stream  contributes  to  increase  the  volume  of 
the  mightier  flood.  If  we  would  form  a  clear  mental  picture, 
then,  of  the  life  of  Sam  Houston,  let  us  first  turn  to  the  early 
history  of  Texas. 

At  the  cession  of  the  territory  of  Louisiana  to  the  United 
States  in  1803,  Texas  became  debatable  ground :  claimed  by  our 
government  as  a  part  of  the  purchase;  claimed  by  the  Spanish 
authorities  as  never  having  been  ceded  to  France,  and  hence  not 
to  be  sold  by  the  rulers  of  that  country.  The  United  States  did 
not  give  up  claim  to  it  until  1819,  when  a  treaty  was  made  by 
which  Texas  was  relinquished  to  Spain,  and  Florida  sold  to  the 
United  States.  The  foundations  of  the  independence  of  Texas 
were  laid  before  Mexico,  of  which  it  formed  a  part,  had  thrown 


vixji  AUSTINSi. 


off  tlie  Spanish  yoke,  and  it  was  only  as  a  Spanish  subject  that 
the  first  settler  of  English  descent  could  go  there. 

Moses  Austin,  a  native  of  Connecticut,  had  settled  west  of  the 
Mississippi  in  1798,  owning  allegiance  to  the  government  chen  ex- 
isting there.  Procuring  from  the  Spanish  officials  a  grant  of 
the  lead  mines  of  Potosi,  sixty-five  miles  south  of  Saint  Louis 
and  forty  miles  west  of  Ste.  Genevieve,  he  remained  there  con- 
tentedly for  twenty  years.  Eeduced  to  comparative  poverty  by 
the  failure  of  the  bank  of  Missouri,  he  projected  apian  for  colon- 
izing parts  of  Texas  with  emigrants  from  the  United  States. 
Going  to  San  Antonio,  the  capital  of  the  province,  in  the  fall  of 
1820,  to  further  his  plans,  the  governor  ordered  him  to  leave  the 
country,  or  suffer  imprisonment.  As  he  left  the  office,  naturally 
discouraged  by  this  unfriendly  reception,  he  met  Baron  de  Bas- 
trop, an  alcalde  of  the  city  who  had  come  to  Mexico  on  a  special 
mission  from  the  King  of  Spain,  and  choosing  to  make  it  his 
home,  had  acquired  considerable  influence.  He  had  known  Aus- 
tin before,  and  readily  lent  his  voice  to  the  scheme,  obtaining  a 
more  favorable  hearing  from  Gov.  Martinez.  A  petition  was 
drawn  up  and  signed  by  the  local  authorities,  praying  the  gov- 
ernment to  allow  Austin  to  bring  three  hundred  families  into 
Texas ;  but  the  law's  delay  was  such  that  no  immediate  action 
was  taken  upon  it,  and  Austin  returned  to  his  Missouri  home.  So 
well  was  he  assured  of  success,  however,  that  he  immediately 
commenced  preparations  for  removal.  In  the  succeeding  spring 
(1821)  he  received  information  that  tbe  desired  permission  had 
been  granted,  but  his  energy  was  subdued  as  never  before:  a 
cold  had  settled  upon  his- lungs,  and  a  few  days  after  he  died. 

The  scheme  of  planting  a  colony  in  Texas  was  left  as  a  legacy 
to  his  son,  Stephen  Fuller  Austin,  who  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
eight  had  already  been  a  member  of  the  territorial  Legislature 
of  Missouri,  and  a  circuit  judge  in  Arkansas.  To  this  latter  ter- 
ritory he  had  removed  to  promote  his  father's  plans  by  raising 
corn  and  other  provisions  to  supply  the  train  of  emigrants  on 
their  way.  To  him,  therefore,  the  bequest  was  not  unexpected 
or  unwelcome,  and  his  best  energies  were  bent  to  accomplish  the 
task.  Towards  Texas  he  bent  his  steps,  meeting  upon  the  way 
the  commissioners  sent  to  conduct  his  father  to  the  land  grant- 
ed. Austin,  the  commissioners  and  fourteen  colonists  made  up 
the  party  that  arrived  in  San  Antonio  on  the  twelfth  of  August 
J821,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  select  the  lands.    The  fertile 


l'HE  AUSTINS, 


197 


region  waterea  by  the  JSrazos,  Colorado  and  Guadalupe  Bivers 
was  chosen,  and  CoL  Austin  returned  to  New  Orleans  to  ad- 
vertise for  colonists.  Such  were  not  difficult  to  find,  but  on  his 
return  a  new  trouble  arose.  The  change  in  the  government  of 
Mexico  necessitated  a  journey  to  the  capital,  to  secure  a  confirm- 
ation of  his  grant.  The  new  government  was  anxious  to  encour- 
age immigration,  and  made  even  better  terms  than  Spain ;  and 
Feb.  18,  1823,  this  grant  was  confirmed. 

Mexico  was  just  beginning  to  establish  her  reputation  as  a 
mother  of  revolutionists ;  and  independence  having  been  secured 
by  the  first  rebellion,  a  second  speedily  followed.  This  detained 
Austin  for  a  long  time  at  the  capital,  and  when  he  reached  the 
colony  he  had  been  absent  a  year.  Of  course  this  did  not  tend 
to  reassure  the  immigrants,  some  of  whom  had  returned  home. 
Encouraged  by  the  presence  of  the  leader,  and  of  De  Bastrop, 
who  had  been  appointed  their  Land  Commissioner,  the  town  of 
San  Felipe  de  Austin  was  laid  out,  and  land  having  been  assigned 
to  each  settler  in  proportion  to  his  needs,  all  set  to  work.  This 
was  a  time  to  severely  test  the  leader's  ability,  but,  weighed  in 
the  balance,  he  was  not  found  wanting.  Everywhere  his  help 
was  given;  from  the  ^^raising'^  of  a  house  or  the  clearing  of  a 
corn-field,  to  the  framing  of  a  code  of  laws,  the  task  received  his 
assistance.  At  once  civil  governor,  military  commander  and 
judge  of  their  only  court,  he  was  the  father  of  the  colony,  and 
looked  well  to  his  off'spring. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  settlement  made  under  his  direction* 
At  different  periods  between  this  first  immigration  and  the 
year  1835,  more  than  fifteen  hundred  persons  had  come  to  Texas 
under  his  direction.  The  colony  had  its  own  difficulties,  how- 
ever, with  which  to  contend.  One  of  these  was  the  rapidly  in- 
creasing number  of  immigrants;  it  became  impossible  for  the 
settlers  already  there  to  raise  enough  grain  for  all  until  the  la- 
test comers  should  have  time  to  plant  and  gather  a  crop,  and 
often  they  must  clothe  themselves  in  skins,  and  live  upon  game. 

But  their  chief  trouble  was  with  the  Indians.  Their  hunting 
parties  must  be  large,  to  guard  against  sudden  attack  from  the 
savages ;  while  a  sufficient  number  must  be  left  at  home  to  pro- 
tect the  settlement.  The  savages  had  been  exasperated  against 
the  whites  by  the  conduct  of  Lafitte.  This  notorious  pirate  had 
for  many  years  been  master  of  the  !||fexican  and  Texas  coast^ 
ivhen,  in  1817,  he  made  Galveston  Island  his  headquarters,  and 


THB  AUSTINS. 


gathered  aronnd  him  a  thousand  followers.  Preying  upon  tUe 
Spanish  and  American  commerce  alike,  they  paid  no  heed  to  the 
rights  of  any  man.   The  savages,  exasperated  by  their  kidnap* 


LATTTTE,  THE  PtBATK. 

ping  of  squaws,  assaulted  their  encampment  many  times,  but  were 
as  often  driven  back  with^terrible  slaughter.  Becoming  at  last 
insupportable,  the  TJnited'states  sent  out  an  expedition  to  break 
up  the  nest,  and  the  pirates  were  driven  to  Yucatan  Having 


cursed  Texas  witii  tkeir  presence  for  so  many  years,  they  left 
her  a  legacy  of  hatred  by  the  Indian  for  the  white  man. 

For  two  or  three  years  the  Indians  continued  to  annoy  the  col- 
onists, not  by  attacks  upon  the  town,  but  by  robberies  and  mur- 
ders committed  whenever  the  weakness  of  a  traveling  party 
tempted  them.  Stories  are  tiresome  when  all  have  the  same  ir,- 
cidents  and  tne  same  results,  so  we  need  not  touch  upon  the  con- 
flicts between  the  settlers  and  the  savages,  ending  by  th®  latter's 
pledge  not  to  come  eastpf  San  Antonio.  So  well  had  th@  lesson 
of  submission  been  taught  that  this  treaty  was  never  violated. 

In  1823-4,  the  surrounding  country  was  much  infested  with 
robbers,  who  often  concealed  that  crime  by  murder  •  but  a  sever- 
ity only  justified  by  the  circumstances,  struck  a  wholesome  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  the  highwaymen. 

Austin^s  was  not  the  only  colony  brought  into  Texas  from  the 
United  States,  but  the  others  had  not  the  same  advantages.  San 
Felipe  was  surrounded  by  a  vast  tract  of  unclaimed  lands,  and 
when  these  were  granted  to  Austin,  there  was  no  man  to  dispute 
his  right ;  but  the  rest  were  located  by  the  government  upon 
lands  claimed,  by  others,  and  those  fomented  the  popular  feeling 
of  the  Mexicans  against  the  Americans. 

The  colony  most  unfortunate  in  this  respect  was  that  of  which 
Hadjden  Edwards  was  empresario,  or  leader.  After  land  had 
been  granted  to  the  settlers  and  improved  by  them,  old  Mexican 
claims  were  revived,  and  the  officials,  jealous  of  the  rapidly  in- 
creasing element,  decided  invariably  against  the  Americans. 
The  diflleulty  soon  culminated  in  war,  and  the  Fred onians  al- 
lied themselves  with  the  Indians,  through  the  agency  of  John 
Dunn  Hunter.  This  was  a  white  man  who  had  been  captured  by 
the  Cherokees  when  a  child,  and  who  had  obtained  almost  para- 
mount influence  in  the  tribe.  These  allies  were  secured  by  a  prom- 
ise that  when  success  had  been  obtained,  Texas  should  be  divid- 
ed equally  between  the  Indians  and  Americans  ;  for  the  Fredo- 
mans  aimed  at  no  less  a  prize  than  the  political  independence  of 
Mexico.  But  Texas  was  not  yet  ready  for  self-government ;  the 
Mexican  forces,  under  Col.  Bean,  attacked  and  routed  the  F»redon- 
ians ;  th@  Indians  wero  bought  off  from  their  alliance  by  gifts  of 
land;  to  show  their  attachment  to  th©  established  authority,  the 
savages  murdered  Hunter,  who  would  have  kept  them  to  their 
first  promise;  Edwards  was  dispossessed  of  his  grant,  and  he  and 
his  colonists  returned  to  the  United  States. 


200 


THE  AUSTINS. 


During  this  war  in  Fredonia,  the  other  colonies  progressed 
finely.  But  all  were  regarded  with  a  jealous  eye  by  the  Mexi- 
cans, because  they  so  faithfully  preserved  their  own  institutions. 

At  the  time  when  Mexico  was  a  dependency  of  Spain,  Texas 
had  been  a  separate  province;  but  when  the  independent  consti- 
tution was  adopted,  Coahuila  and  Texas  were  made  one  state. 


THE  MURDER  OF  HUNTER. 


This  large  extent  of  territory  being  comprised  under  one  govern- 
ment, and  that  inefficient,  crying  evils  naturally  arose.  The  con- 
stitution of  this  double  state  was  adopted  in  1827,  being  ostensibly 
modeled  on  that  of  the  United  States,  but  with  fatal  differences. 
One  law  passed  in  1830,  prohibited  further  immigration  from  the 
United  States.  This,  however,  was  disregarded  by  those  who  wish- 
ed to  come,  and  in  1831  the  Americans  there  numbered  about 
iwentj  thousands 


GENERAL  SAM  HOUISTOJS^ 


201 


The  Mexican  revolution  of  1832  showed  clearly  the  strength  of 
Texas,  and  hence  increased  the  jealous  hatred  of  the  Mexicans 
towards  her.  The  anxiety  of  the  United  States  government  to 
Bxtend  its  limits  to  the  southwest  also  contributed  to  strengthen 
their  suspicions  of  the  colonists.  The  Americans  were  accused 
of  trying  to  carry  their  new  homo  over  to  their  native  country, 
and  for  this  purpose,  it  was  thought,  they  fought  so  steadily  for 
what  they  had  learned  to  consider  their  rights. 

Every  man  of  discernment  saw  that  the  day  was  not  far  distant 
when  Texas  would  be  no  longer  a  part  of  Mexico ;  but  Austin  tried 
to  keep  his  colony  peaceful  and  prosperous,  that,  when  the  time 
came  for  the  struggle,  their  efforts  might  be  crowned  by  success. 
He  had  refused  to  aid  the  Fredonians,  for  their  revolt  was  pre- 
mature; his  duty  to  his  adopted  country  forbade  his  encour- 
aging resistance  to  its  legally  constituted  aathorities,  when,  al- 
though there  were  evils,  they  were  hardly  such  as  could  or  should 
be  redressed  by  fighting.  He  knew  that  his  colonists,  free-born 
Anglo-Americans  as  they  were,  would  not  always  submit  to  the 
government  of  men  accustomed  to  tyranny,  and  modelling  their 
istate  after  those  of  the  Dark  Ages  of  Europe. 

GENERAL  SAM  HOUSTON. 

Whatever  laws  might  be  made,  there  was  no  such  thing  possi- 
ble as  keeping  the  adventurous  and  daring  spirits  of  the  United 
States  out  of  any  place  whither  they  wished  to  go,  and  the  dis- 
turbances of  1832  attracted  many  such  to  Texas.  Not  the  least 
among  these,  if  we  consider  either  his  previous  position  or  his 
later  services,  was  Sam  Houston,  whose  voluntary  exile  from  Ten- 
nessee, for  the  past  three  years,  had  been  explained  in  many  ways. 

Born  in  Eockbridge  County,  Yirginia,  in  1793,  his  father  died 
in  1807,  leaving  a  widow  and  nine  children  in  destitute  circum- 
stances. Eemoval  to  Blount  County,  Tennessee,  immediately 
followed,  and  here  the  youth  of  our  hero  was  spent  in  alternately 
attending  school,  working  on  his  mother's  farm,  and  clerking  in 
a  store;  until  suddenly  he  left  home  and  joined  the  Cherokee 
Indians.  This  wild  life  does  not  appear  to  have  lasted  very  long, 
for  we  find  him,  while  still  a  mere  boy,  teaching  school  in  order 
to  pay  off  some  debts.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  he  enlisted  in  the 
army  for  the  Creek  war,  then  raging  in  Florida,  and  by  his  gal- 
lantry in  action  won  the  approval  of  Gen.  Jackson.  His  daring 
the  field  at  the  battle  of  the  Horseshoe  resulted  in  several 


GENERAIi  SAM  HOUSTOHc 


severe  wounds,  Irom  which  he  did  not  recover  for  over  a  year  ^ 
and  in  the  promotion  to  the  rank  of  second  lieutenant. 

Being  appointed  sub-agent  for  the  Cherokee  Indians  in  1817, 
he  was  soon  accused  of  abusing  his  authority ;  but  investigation 
proved  that  the  charges  were  made  by  contractors  whom  he  had 
displeased  by  his  integrity.  Receiving  in  the  succeeding  year  a 
com'^iiission  as  first  lieutenant,  dated  back  a  year,  he  resigned  his 


HOUSTON  WOUNDED  IN  THE  CREEK  WAR. 

military  and  civil  honors  in  1819,  to  devote  himself  to  the  study 
of  the  law.  In  this  profession  he  speedily  attained  eminence, 
being  in  1819  elected  District  Attorney ;  at  the  same  time  the  ti- 
tle of  Major-General  of  militia  was  accorded  to  him.  Political 
honors,  also,  awaited  him.  Elected  and  re-elected  to  Congress 
in  1823  and  '25,  he  left  his  seat  there  at  the  close  of  his  second 


GENERAL  ISAM  HOUSTON. 


203 


term  only  to  ascend  the  steps  of  the  gnbernatoriax  mansion  as  its 
master.  In  1829  he  was  happily  married,  and  to  ail  appearance 
there  was  no  cloud  in  the  sky.  His  majority  had  been  over- 
whelming, his  popularity  was  unbounded,  his  administration  met 
with  no  opposition.  Such  was  the  brilliancy  of  his  prospects 
when,  without  any  warning  to  those  outside  their  mansion,  Mrs. 
Houston  returned  to  her  father's  house,  and  the  governor  resigned 
his  office  and  fled  from  the  city  in  disguise.  The  news  fell  like 
a  thunderbolt  upon  his  friends.  [Neither  of  the  two  who  alone 
could  satisfy  curiosity  ever  told  the  story,  and  tb^.  secret  has 
gone  down  with  them  into  the  grave. 

Houston,  on  leaving  the  city,  went  to  the  Cheroke^^,  who  were 
now  settled  on  the  Arkansas  Eiver  in  the  Indian  Territory,  and 
was  by  them  formally  admitted  to  all  the  rights  of  citizenship  in  < 
the  tribe.  But  his  absence  was  a  puzzling  thing  to  those  interest- 
ed in  him,  and  it  was  accounted  for  in  various  ways.  There  are  al^ 
ways  those  who  are  ready  to  impute  evil,  and  perhaps  the  memory 
of  Burr's  treason,  which  men  still  in  the  prime  of  life  had  known 
at  the  time,  predisposed  them  to  suspect  Houston.  It  was  rum- 
ored that  he  was  to  invade  and  detach  Texas  from  the  Mexican 
government;  that  he  was  to  aid  Mexico  against  the  Spanish  in- 
vasion; that  he  was  to  collect  a  party  of  white  adventurers  and 
join  them  to  his  Indian  friends,  no  one  knew  for  what  purpose. 
So  well-defined  were  these  reports  that  they  reached  the  ears  of 
President  Jackson,  who  immediately  wrote  to  Houston  to  depre- 
cate such  a  thing  as  the  attack  upon  Texas.  Similar  information, 
claiming  to  be  obtained  from  Houston  himself,  reached  the  Pres- 
ident again,  and  Jackson  confidentially  directed  the  secretary  of 
state  of  Arkansas  to  keep  him  informed  of  any  movements  on 
Houston's  part  which  might  seem  to  confirm  this  intelligence. 
He  soon  received  the  welcome  news  that  there  were  no  such 
movements  on  foot. 

Appointed  confidential  Indian  agent  to  the  tribes  of  the  south- 
west in  1832,  it  was  probably  in  the  early  part  of  the  succeeding 
year  that  he  went  to  Texas.  He  had  been  solicited  by  friends 
there,  as  early  as  1829,  to  join  them,  but  had  preferred  his  life  in 
the  Cherokee  nation.  When  he  did  cross  the  boundary  H  was 
probably,  at  first,  in  prosecution  of  the  work  assigned  him  as 
Indian  agent.  The  Mexicans  complained  a  great  deal  of  the  in- 
roads of  Indians  from  the  United  States,  and  Houston  had  orders 
P^m  our  government  to  induce  them  to  leave  Texas  and  return 


204 


COLONEL  JAMElL  BOWIE. 


to  their  reservations.  While  engaged  in  this  work,  ^.iieh  the 
jealousy  of  the  Mexican  authorities  rendered  unsuccessful,  he 
met  with  Col.  James  Bowie,  around  whose  name  clusters  so  many 
border  associations,  and  who  lived  and  died  so  bravely  for  Texas, 
that  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  introduce  him  still  more  fully 
to  th^  reader. 

COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE. 

A  native  of  Georgia,  his  parents  removed  to  Louisiana  in  1802, 
with  their  five  sons,  of  whom  the  most  famous  in  after  years  was 
the  second,  James.  Here  he  grew  to  manhood,  tall  and  well- 
proportioned,  fair-haired  and  blue-eyed ;  erect  in  bearing,  mild 
and  quiet  in  his  manner;  jovial  and  companionable,  but  not  a 
drunkard;  with  a  wonderful  art  of  winning  people  to  him,  and 
extremely  prodigal  of  his  money.  Contrary  to  the  impression 
which  generally  prevails,  he  was  not  an  habitual  duelist.  The 
knife  which  bears  his  name,  and  which  was  first  made  by  his  bro- 
ther, Eezin  P.  Bowie,  was  never  but  once  used  by  him  except  as  a 
hunting  knife.  This  single  occasion  was  in  1827,  when  James 
Bowie  met,  on  a  sand-bar  in  the  Mississippi,  an  antagonist  by 
whom  he  had  been,  on  a  previous  occasion,  waylaid  and  shot. 
James  Bowie  fell  at  the  first  fire,  and  his  opponent,  Wright,  was 
advancing  to  give  him  the  coup  de  grace,  when  Bowie  drew  the 
knife  and  killed  him.  Several  others  were  killed  in  this  fight, 
for  the  quarrel  had  been  well  known,  and  both  men  had  many 
partisans.  After  a  lucrative  trade  in  the  negroes  captured  by 
Lafitte,  bought  by  the  Bowies  and  sold  in  Louisiana,  James  and 
Eezin  P.  Bowie  settled  in  Texas,  in  1830,  the  former  became  a 
naturalized  citizen,  and  soon  afterward  married  the  daughter  of 
the  Yice  Governor  of  San  Antonio. 

Late  in  1831,  the  two  brothers,  accompanied  by  seven  of  their  f 
countrymen  and  two  negro  servants,  set  out  in  search  of  the  de- 
serted silver  mines  of  San  Saba.  They  had  been  on  the  road  more 
than  two  weeks  when  they  were  overtaken  by  two  Comanches 
iind  a  Mexican  captive.  Early  the  next  morning,  before  they 
had  left  the  camp,  the  Mexican  of  that  party  arrived  in  a  state  of 
great  exhaustion,  with  a  warning  message  from  the  Comanche 
•  chief.  Over  a  hundred  and  fifty  hostile  Indians  would  soon  at- 
tack the  little  party,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  Comanches  to 
dissuade  them.  The  chief  offered  what  assistance  he  could  give 
them,  but  his  party  only  numbered  sixteen,  badly  armed  and 
without  ammunition.    Col.  Bowie  deemed  it  wisest  to  push  on 


OCL^iNKL  JAMES  BOWIE, 


205 


towards  tne  old  fort  on  the  San  Saba,  and  the  Mexican  returned 
to  his  party. 

But  with  bad  roads  and  worn-out  horses,  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  travel  thirty  miles  that  day.  It  was  at  first  difficult  for 
them  to  find  any  camping-place  where  they  would  be  at  all  secure 
from  the  Indians,  but  finally  they  selected  a  cluster  of  live-oak 
trees,  near  which  was  a  thicket  of  bushes  of  similar  growth,  and, 
thirty  or  forty  yards  in  another  direction,  a  stream  of  wator. 
They  were  not  disturbed  during  the  night,  but  in  the  morning, 
just  as  they  were  about  to  leave  the  camp,  discovered  the  Indians 
about  two  hundred  yards  away.  They  numbered  one  hundred 
and  sixty-four,  while  there  were  eleven  men,  all  told,  in  the  camp. 
The  whites  accordingly  wished  to  avoid  a  fight,  and  sent  outEe- 
zin  Bowie  and  David  Buchanan  to  parley  with  them.  Advanc- 
ing to  within  forty  yards  of  where  they  had  halted,  Bowie  asked 
them,  in  their  own  tongue,  to  send  forward  their  chief  to  talk 
with  him.  They  replied  in  English  with  the  salutation :  ^^How  d'ye 
do  ?  How  d'ye  do  V  and  with  a  volley  from  their  rifles,  breaking 
Buchanan's  leg.  With  his  wounded  comrade  on  his  back,  Bowie 
started  back  to  the  encampment,  followed  by  a  heavy  fire.  Bu- 
chanan was  wounded  twice  again,  but  slightly,  while  Bowie  es- 
caped unhurt.  A  spirited  contest  now  ensued,  the  rifles  of  the 
whites  doing  deadly  work  among  the  Indians  on  the  open  prai- 
rie. Slowly  and  surely  the  savages  closed  around  the  little  camp 
in  a  complete  circle,  and  the  white  men  almost  despaired  of  driv- 
ing them  ofl*.  But  the  Indians  were  by  no  means  pleased  at  their 
success ;  every  volley  from  the  camp  brought  down  five  or  six 
of  their  warriors,  while  they  had  no  guide  for  their  aim  but  the 
smoke  of  the  white  men's  guns.  They  now  determined  to  resort 
to  stratagem,  and  set  fire  to  the  dry  grass  of  the  prairie  with  a 
double  object  in  view;  it  would  at  once  drive  the  whites  from 
their  shelter,  and  enable  the  Indians,  under  cover  of  the  smoke, 
to  carry  off  their  dead  and  wounded.  A  change  in  the  wind  ren- 
dered the  position  of  the  white  men  doubly  dangerous,  driving 
the  fire  directly  upon  them;  if  they  remained  where  they  were, 
they  would  be  burned  alive;  if  they  left  it,  it  would  be  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Only  one  fire  remained  in  their 
guns,  and  in  the  shower  of  sparks  no  man  dared  open  his  powder- 
horn.  The  thicket  which  sheltered  them  was  now  burnt,  and 
they  set  abotit  building  a  breastw  jrk  of  loose  stones  and  of  earth 
which  they  dug  up  with  their  knives  and  sticks.    The  fight  had 


206 


COLOiSJUlLi  JAMES 


lasted  since  sunrise,  and  it  was  now  nearly  nigtiG.  The  Indians 
withdrew  to  a  distance  of  about  three  hundred  yards,  and  en- 
camped, while  Bowie's  party  working  hard  at  the  earthwork^ 
succeeding  in  raising  it  breast-high  by  ten  o'clock.  As  they 
worked,  they  could  hear  the  wild  lament  of  the  Indians  over  their 
dead,  and  when  they  awoke  at  the  change  of  guard,  the  sad 
sounds  still  greeted  their  ears.  They  prepared  for  another  at- 
^mek  next  day,  although  their  originally  small  party  had  been 


GENERAL  SANTA  ANNA. 

much  reduced,  one  man  being  killed  and  three  wounded ;  but  the 
Indians  did  not  again  attack  them.  Eight  days  were  passed  here, 
when  they  returned  to  San  Antonio,  a  twelve  days'  journey. 

Such  was  the  famous  Col.  Bowie,  of  whose  death  by  the  hands 
of  the  enemies  of  Texas  we  shall  learn  later  on.  His  introduc- 
tion of  Houston  to  various  Mexican  authorities  probably  proved 
of  material  advantage  to  our  hero.  Of  course  it  was  Houston's 
character  and  reputation  that  drew  Bowie  to  him,  and  that,  onN 
two  months  after  his  first  coming  to  Texas,  led  to  his  election  a» 


STEPHEN  F.  AUSTIN. 


a  delegate  to  the  postponed  constitutional  convention.  Houston 
was  the  chairman  of  the  committee  that  framed  a  constitution  to 
be  submitted  to  the  general  government  and  to  the  people;  a 
brief,  but  model  document,  that  would  have  insured  to  the  Tex- 
ans,  had  it  ever  gone  into  effect,  all  those  rights  and  privileges 
so  dear  to  the  people  of  the  United  States.  Three  delegates  were 
chosen,  to  present  this  constitution  to  the  supreme  government^ 
Stephen  F.  Austin  being  elected  by  the  largest  majority.  For 
gome  reason  the  others,  Wharton  and  Miller,  did  not  execute  the 
commission,  and  Austin  went  alone  to  the  capital. 

Santa  Anna  had  been  recently  elected  President,  but  had  re- 
tired to  his  estates,  leaving  Vice  President  Farias  in  charge  of 
the  government.  His  design  was  to  overturn  the  constitution 
and  establish  a  '^strong''  government,  with  himself  as  dictator; 
hoping  that  his  retirement  would  relieve  him  of  responsibility. 
Meanwhile,  all  political  business  was  thrown  into  disorder,  which 
was  further  increased  by  a  terrible  epidemic  prevailing  in  the  city. 
In  a  few  weeks,  cholera  carried  oif  ten  thousand  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  metropolis;  it  spread  to  the  provinces;  the  meetings 
of  Congress,  even,  were  deranged  by  it. 

Austin  despaired  of  the  success  of  his  mission.  He  had  already 
urged  his  suit  with  such  importunity  as  to  offend  Farias ;  there, 
was  no  prospect  that  Congress  would  take  any  action  upon  it^ 
Full  of  disappointment,  he  wrote  to  a  citizen  of  San  Antonio, 
recommending  that  all  the  municipalities  of  Texas  unite  in  form^ 
ing  a  state,  under  the  constitution  of  1824,  and  thus  prepare  to 
resist  a  refusal  of  their  application.  Some  one  in  San  Antonio 
sent  a  copy  of  this  letter  to  Farias,  who  received  it  after  Austin 
had  left  the  capital.  An  express  was  immediately  despatched, 
and  Austin  arrested  and  carried  back  to  a  Mexican  prison.  For 
four  months  he  lay  in  close  confinement  from  the  light  of  day, 
and  for  a  time  denied  the  use  of  writing  materials.  These  were 
furnished  him,  however,  by  a  priest  who  had  ministered  to  the 
colony  of  San  Felipe — a  warm  personal  friend, — and  the  musings 
written  in  pencil  in  a  small  memorandum  book  give  a  picture 
of  his  mind. 

In  June  his  condition  was  improved.  He  was  removed  to 
more  comfortable  quarters,  and  given  to  understand  that  he  would 
— sometime — be  brought  to  trial.  The  charge  was  treason,  and 
the  first  court  before  which  he  was  brought  was  a  military  one. 
The  judge  decided  it  was  a  case  over  which  he  had  no  jurisdic* 


208  STEPHEN  F.  AUSTIN. 

tion.  A  civil  court  was  next  tried,  but  the  same  decision  was 
given.  Tiae  judges  knew  that  there  were  no  real  charges,  but 
were  equally  afraid  to  acquit  or  convict.  Austin  ascribed  his 
persecution  to  a  crew  of  land-sharks,  who  had  fraudulently  ob- 
tained eight  hundred  leagues  of  land  around  Monclova.  These 
men  knew  that  if  he  were  at  liberty,  he  would  expose  their  claim. 

During  his  imprisonment,  he  was  re-elected  to  the  Legislature, 
but  never  occupied  his  seat.  Eumors  reached  him,  now  accusing 
him  of  being  too  Mexican,  now  of  paying  too  much  deference  to 
popular  opinion  in  Texas.  At  last,  after  he  had  been  in  prison 
for  a  year  and  a  half,  and  absent  ten  months  longer,  he  was  al- 
lowed to  return  to  San  Felipe  in  September,  1835.  The  greater 
part  of  the  time  that  he  was  a  prisoner  the  confinement  was  mere- 
ly nominal,  and  he  was  treated  with  flattering  attentions  by  Santa 
Anna,  when  that  official  resumed  the  reins  of  power.  Nearly  a 
year  before  Austin  was  permitted  to  return,  the  President  had 
taken  the  petitions  of  the  Texans  under  consideration,  convoking 
a  special  council,  in  which  Austin  had  a  seat,  for  that  purpose. 
His  decision  was  adverse  to  the  erection  of  Texas  into  a  separate 
state,  although  he  held  out  hopes  that  he  would  organize  it  as  ^ 
territory. 

Texas  had  been  the  scene  of  confusion  for  two  years.  Early  in 
1835  the  Federal  Congress  had  reduced  the  number  of  the  militia 
to  one  soldier  for  each  five  hun  '^ed  inhabitants,  and  decreed  that 
the  others  should  be  disarmed,  ^his  measure  was  intended  to 
prevent  resistance  to  anything  that  Santa  Anna  might  propose, 
but  failed  signally.  While  the  President  was  pretending  to  give 
favorable  attention  to  them,  he  was  really  planning  a  military 
occupation  of  the  state,  and  only  awaiting  an  excuse  to  punish 
them  for  their  boldness. 

This  excuse  was  soon  made  by  oppression.  The  spirit  of  the 
people  had  been  aroused  by  various  tyrannical  actions,  in  the 
assessment  and  collection  of  taxes,  in  quartering  soldiers  upon 
the  people,  and  in  arresting  several  citizens  upon  slight  pretence^ 

In  pursuance  of  the  decree  directing  the  disarming  of  the  citi- 
zens. Captain  Castinado  was  sent  to  seize  a  small  cannon  at  Gon- 
zales, that  was  used  against  the  Indians.  The  citizens  were  pre- 
pared to  resist  the  demand  by  force,  and  the  Mexicans  were  soen 
compelled  to  withdraw.  The  warlike  spirit  spread  like  a  prairie 
fire  in  the  fall ;  and  before  a  month  had  passed,  two  forts,  Goliarl 
and  Lipantitlan,  garrisoned  by  Mexicans,  had  been  captured. 


STEPHEN  F,  AUSTIN. 


209 


This  was  done  by  volunteers  who  were  without  military  organ- 
ization, the  leader  being  elected  only  for  one  attack.  Some  of  the 
more  prominent  men  in  camp  wrote  to  San  Felipe  requesting 
Austin  to  come  to  them,  and  he  was  elected  their  commander. 


A  TEXAN"  RAIN^GER. 


At  this  stage  there  were  two  parties  in  Texas,  one  declaring 
for  war,  the  other  for  peace.  Of  this  latter,  the  leading  spirit 
was  Sam  Houston,  who,  in  August,  1835,  introduced  at  a  meeting 
,  in  San  Augustine  a  series  of  resolutions  which,  although  they 
remonstrated  against  Santa  Annans  tyranny,  professed  loyalty  to 
the  national  constitution  oi  1824.  But  it  soon  became  evident, 
even  to  him,  that  it  was  impossible  to  prevei  t  war,  and  in  Nov- 
ember of  the  same  year  he  accepted  the  commission  tendered 
him — commander  of  the  troops  of  Eastern  Texas. 
25 


210 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR,  INDEPENDENCE. 


Houston  did  not  wish  to  interfere  with  Gen.  Austin,  and,  when 
the  latter  urged  him  to  take  entire  command,  absolutely  refused 
to  do  so;  saying  that  Austin  had  been  elected  by  the  troops,  and 
the  reinforcements  had  been  enlisted  under  them  ;  that  if  he  were 
to  resign  it  might  afford  ground  for  discontent.  The  same  Gen- 
eral Council,  which  elected  Houston  to  his  military  position,  es- 
tablished a  provisional  government,  and,  after  declaring  the  stand 
which  Texas  had  taken  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  support  of 
the  constitution  of  1824,  adjourned  until  March  1,  1836.  At  this 
second  session,  Austin  was  sent  as  a  commissioner  to  the  United 
States  to  secure  loans  to  maintain  the  government ;  Henry  Smith 
was  elected  governor,  and  Houston  commander-in-chief. 

But  the  interval  between  these  two  sessions  is  not  devoid  of 
interest.  On  the  second  of  November,  the  Texan  army,  number- 
ing at  least  a  thousand  men,  left  Concepcion,  where,  on  the  twen- 
ty-eighth of  October,  they  had  defeated  the  Mexicans  under 
Gen.  Cos,  losing  but  one  man  to  the  enemy's  sixty,  and  marched  to 
San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  one  and  a  half  miles  away.  The  town  had 
been  put  in  good  condition  to  maintain  a  siege,  breastworks  be- 
ing thrown  up  at  the  entrance  of  every  street  into  the  square,  a 
redoubt  erected  in  a  vacant  lot  fronting  the  plaza,  and  artillery 
mounted  behind  the  parapet  on  the  roof  of  the  old  church.  The 
Mexicans  numbered  about  eight  hundred,  and  were  well  supplied 
with  cannon,  while  the  Texans  had  but  five  small  pieces.  It  had. 
been  decided  that  to  storm  the  place  would  involve  the  loss  of  too 
many  men,  and  that,  therefore,  a  regular  siege  should  be  ordered,. 

Every  eifort  was  made  to  draw  the  enemy  out  of  his  fortifica- 
tions, but  in  vain.  They  soon  gave  evidence  of  weakness  by  send- 
ing horses  away  to  lessen  the  consumption  of  provisions ;  three 
hundred  animals,  sent  to  Laredo,  were  captured  by  a  detachment 
under  Col.  Travis ;  their  poor  condition  showed  the  scarcity  of 
provender  in  the  town,  and  Austin  thought  that  it  could  not  long 
hold  out.  But  Cos  was  waiting  for  reinforcements,  and  would  not 
surrender.  The  Texans  grew  impatient  with  inaction,  and  the 
besieging  force  gradually  diminished,  until,  by  the  fourteenth, 
there  were  less  than  six  hundred. 

The  Grass  Fight,''  as  it  is  called,  occurring  on  the  twenty- 
sixth,  was  the  first  engagement,  of  note  during  the  siege.  A  for- 
aging party,  sent  out  by  Gen.  Cos,  was  attacked  by  Col.  Bowie  and 
a  force  of  about  one  hundred  men.  A  confused,  running  fight,  the 
Mexicans  beiiig  reinforced,  resulted  favorably  for  the  Texans. 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


They  had  none  killed,  two  wounded  and  one  missing,  while  the 
enemy  had  fifty  killed  and  several  wounded. 

The  Texans  were  reinforced  before  assistance  reached  the 
Mexicans.  Mexico  complained  bitterly  of  the  assistance  in  men, 
ammunition,  and  money  that  JSTew  Orleans  was  busily  transmit' 
ting  to  the  rebel  citizens  of  a  friendly  government.  President 
Jackson  replied  that  there  was  no  law  in  the  United  States  to 
prohibit  the  transmission  of  arms  or  funds  or  prevent  persons 
from  leaving  the  country,  if  they  did  not  organize  forces  within 
its  limits.  So  high  ran  the  feeling  that  forces  were  organized 
within  the  United  States,  but  no  one  notified  the  authorities,  and 
more  than  one  well  equipped  company  was  sent  to  aid  the  pa- 
triots. Notable  among  these  were  the  New  Orleans  Grays,  two 
companies  of  which  were  sent  to  San  A.ntonio  in  less  than  a  month 
and  a  half  after  the  news  of  the  Texan  revolution  had  reached 
New  Orleans. 

Gen.Burleson  was  now  in  command  of  the  army  around  Bexar^ 
which,  although  considerably  reinforced,  did  not  number  more 
than  eight  hundred  men.  An  attack  on  the  town  was  ordered^ 
but  subsequently  postponed.  The  rage  of  the  soldiers  on  learning 
the  latter  decision  was  indescribable,  and  when,  late  in  the  even- 
ing of  the  fourth  of  December,  Col.  Benjamin  R.  Milam  cried : 
"  Who  will  go  with  old  Ben  Milam  into  San  Antonio  V  he  wa? 
answered  by  a  shout  from  every  man  in  the  army.  The  assault 
took  place  on  the  morning  of  the  fifth,  and  for  four  days  the  TeX' 
ans  pressed  hard  upon  the  enemy.  At  length,  on  the  morning  of 
the  ninth.  Gen.  Cos,  who  was  now  shut  up  in  the  Alamo,  sent  a 
flag  of  truce,  expressing  a  desire  to  capitulate.  Easy  terms  were 
given,  the  ofiicers  being  required  to  pledge  their  word  of  honor 
that  they  would  not  in  any  way  oppose  the  re-establishment  of 
the  constitution  of  1824. 

Col.  Milam  was  killed  early  in  the  assault,  and  the  honor  of 
the  victory  belonged  to  Col.  Johnson,  upon  whom  the  command 
devolved.  To  him,  also,  Gen.  Burleson  delegated  the  command 
at  the  Alamo,  leaving  a  force  suflicient  to  garrison  it;  the  re- 
mainder of  the  army  dispersed.  The  humanity  with  which  the 
wounded  Mexicans  were  treated  was  remarkable  in  the  annals  of 
war,  but,  as  we  shall  see  later,  the  lesson  was  lost  upon  the  en- 
emy. 

But  new  difficulties  were  to  beset  the  new  republic,  only  to  be 
averted  by  a  clear  head  and  a  strong  hand.    An  effort  was  made 


212 


TEXAS  WAR  ..OR  INDEPENDENCE. 


to  depose  the  existing  authorities  on  account  of  inefficiency ;  but 
Houston  replied  to  this  speech,  in  a  meeting  at  San  Felipe,  with 
such  effect  that  the  mover  of  the  resolutions  tore  them  up  and 
left  the  assembly.    While  these  internal  dissensions  weakened 
Texas,  Mexico  became  the  more  united.    The  surrender  of  Cos 
at  San  Antonio  was  by  the  Mexicans  regarded  as  a  disgrace,  and 
all  concurred  in  an  eager  desire  to  avenge  the  dignity  of  the  re- 
public.   Of  this  feeling  the  Texans  were  hardly  aware ;  they 
still  looked  for  co-operation  from  the  other  states  in  supporting 
the  constitution  of  1824,  yet,  with  a  strange  inconsistency,  were 
looking  confidently  forward  to  independence.    It  was  in  accord- 
ance with  this  feeling  of  the  Mexicans  that  Santa  Anna  deter- 
mined to  lead  the  Mexican  army  in  person  into  Texas,  and,  col- 
lecting a  force  and  maintaining  it  by  a  tax  of  one  per  cent,  every 
twenty  days,  he  entered  the  state  a  little  after  the  middle  of  Feb  ■ 
ruary,  1836.    At  the  beginning  of  the  war  in  the  previous  yeai^ 
the  Texans  had  united  to  repel 
the  invader;  but  now  they  show- 
ed not  one  hundredth  part  of  that 
activity.    They  were  exhausted 
by  privations  and  toils  ;  they  did 
not   believe  that   Santa  Anna 
would  enter  the  state  again ;  there 
would  be  volunteers  from  the 
United  States  to  assist  them,  if 
they  waited ;   and  the  quarrels 
of  the  civil  authorities  had  a  par- 
alyzing effect  upon  the  people. 

The  invasion  was  a  thing  not  to 
be  denied  by  the  civil  or  mili-  general  sam  Houston. 

tary  officers,  however,  and  Gov.  Smith  despatched  Col.  Travis, 
Gen.  Houston  and  Col.  Bowie,  each  with  a  force  of  thirty  men, 
to  the  relief  of  Bexar.  On  the  twenty-third  of  February,  the 
town  was  regularly  invested  by  a  force  of  five  or  six  thousand, 
the  besieged  numbering  but  one  hundred  and  forty-five.  These 
are  the  numbers  as  stated  by  Col.  Travis,  in  a  letter  written  dur* 
ing  the  siege.  On  the  sixth  of  March,  1836,  the  Alamo  fell.  The 
garrison  had  held  out  a  long  time,  and  had  fought  desperately; 
the  commander,  Travis,  fell,  mortally  wounded  by  a  ball  j  a  Mex- 
ican officer  rushed  towards  him  with  drawn  sword;  the  hero  of 
the  Alamo,  rousing  himself  wit^jth^energy  of  despair,  drew  his 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


213 


own  sword,  and  the  two  enemies  closed  in  a  fatal  union,  the 
sword  of  each  sheathed  into  the  breast  of  the  other.  Such  was  the 
spirit  with  which  these  men  fought  for  their  independence.  Every 
prisoner  was  slain.  The  corpse  of  Travis  was  hunted  out  from 
the  heaps  of  slain,  that  Santa  Anna  might  run  his  sword  through 
it.  Two  officers  were  detailed  to  pile  up  the  bodies  of  the  defend- 
ers and  burn  them.  In  the  search  they  found  a  man  still  alive, 
lying  sick  on  a  stretcher. 

Do  you  know  him?^^  asked  one. 

I  think,^'  replied  the  other,    it  is  the  infamous  Col.  Bowie.'' 
They  berated  him  for  fighting  against  the  Mexican  government ; 
he  replied  by  denouncing  them  for  fighting  under  such  a  tyrant 
as  Santa  Anna ;  they  commanded  silence ;  he  answered  : 
"  Not  when  ordered  by  such  as  you/' 

^^Then  we  will  relieve  you  of  your  tongue,^'  rejoined  one  of 
the  officers. 

The  brutal  order  was  given  to  the  soldiers  near  by,  and  speed- 
ily obeyed.  The  bleeding  and  mutilated  body  of  the  gallant  Tex- 
an was  thrown  upon  the  heap  of  the  slain,  the  funeral  pile  of  the 
patriots  saturated  with  camphene,  and  the  tall  pillar  of  flame 
that  shot  upward  bore  the  soul  of  Bowie  up  to  God. 

A  woman  and  a  negro  servant  were  the  only  persons  in  the 
fort  whose  lives  were  spared.  These  were  sent  to  Gen.  Houston, 
accompanied  by  a  Mexican,  who  was  commanded  to  offer  peace 
and  general  amnesty  to  the  Texans,  if  they  would  lay  down  their 
arms  and  submit  to  the  government  of  Santa  Anna.  Gen.  Hous- 
ton's answer  was : 

True,  sir,  you  have  succeeded  in  killing  some  of  our  bravest 
men,  but  the  Texans  are  not  yet  conquered.'' 

These  words  were  accompanied  by  a  copy  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  which  had  been  adopted  at  Washington  on  the 
second  of  the  month. 

Having  taken  San  Antonio,  Santa  Anna  diverted  the  attention 
of  the  patriots  by  feints  upon  Gonzales  and  Bastrop,  and  then 
marched  upon  Goliad,  where  Col.  Fannin,  the  hero  of  Concep- 
cion,  was  stationed  with  a  small  force  of  volunteers,  variously 
estimated.  In  obedience  to  an  order  from  Gen.  Houston,  Fannin, 
who  had  greatly  diminished  his  force  by  sending  out  parties  to 
the  assistance  of  neighboring  settlements,  set  out  towards  Victo- 
ria. After  a  march  of  six  or  eight  miles  towards  the  Coleta,  he 
ordered  a  halt,  to  graze  and  rest  the  osen  and  refresh  the  troops. 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


The  march  had  hardly  been  resumed,  when  they  were  attacked 
by  the  Mexicans.  All  day  long  they  fought,  and  when  night 
came,  as  neither  side  had  gained  a  decisive  victory,  the  Texan 
officers  decided  that  that  they  could  not  save  their  wounded  with- 
out capitulating.  A  white  flag  sent  out  by  them  was  promptly 
answered  by  the  enemy;  the  Mexican  General  Urrea  would  treat 
only  with  the  commanding  officer.  Col.  Fannin,  though  crippled 
by  a  wound,  went  out  and  made  excellent  terms.  The  Texans 
were  to  be  received  and  treated  as  prisoners  of  war,  and  were 
accordingly  marched  back  to  Goliad,  where  they  arrived  March 
22d.  On  the  evening  of  the  twenty-sixth,  the  prisoners  were  dis- 
cussing their  departure  to  the  United  States,  whither  they  were 
to  be  sent,  and  some  were  playing  ^'  Home,  Sweet  Home,^^  upon 
the  flute,  when  a  courier  arrived  from  Santa  Anna.  At  dawn  the 
next  day  (Palm  Sunday),  the  Texans  were  formed  in  several  di- 
visions and  marched  off  in  different  directions.  Four  Texan 
physicians,  who  had  been  employed  in  caring  for  the  Mexican 
wounded,  were  taken  to  the  tent  of  Col.  Guerrier,  a  Mexican 
officer.  A  volley  was  heard  from  the  east;  another  from  the 
south  3  more  than  one  voice  cried  "Hurrah  for  Texas  before 
it  was  stilled  forever;  many  fled  for  their  lives,  but  were  fol- 
lowed and  cut  down  by  the  cavalry. 

"  Can  it  be  possible,^'  asked  Dr.  Shackelford  of  Col.  Guerrier,  as 
that  officer  entered  his  tent,  that  they  are  murdering  our  men?^^ 

"  It  is  true,''  answered  the  Mexican,  "  but  I  have  not  given  the 
order  or  executed  it/' 

Three  hundred  and  thirty  Texans  suffered  death  by  that  order 
of  Santa  Anna's,  about  twenty-seven  escaping  to  their  friends. 

Santa  Anna  was  now  fully  convinced  that  Texas  was  almost 
completely  subdued,  and  proposed  to  return,  leaving  a  subordi- 
nate officer  to  finish  the  work ;  but  the  representations  of  his 
generals  prevented  him  from  carrying  out  this  plan.  The  Texan 
army  retreated  towards  the  west,  Houston  having  decided  to 
make  the  Colorado  the  line  of  defence;  but  the  panic,  which 
spread  through  the  country,  kept  men  at  home  to  defend  their 
families,  and  thus  no  reinforcements  came.  This  panic  was  main- 
ly produced  by  the  deserters  from  Houston's  army.  The  com- 
mander-in-chief earnestly  begged  the  chairman  of  the  military 
committee  to  re-assure  the  people.  "We  can  raise  three  thou- 
sand men  in  Texas,"  he  wrote,  "  and  fifteen  hundred  can  defeat 
all  that  Santa  Anna  can  send  to  the  Colorado."  Every  effort  was 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE.  215 


made  «^  raise  more  troops,  but  no  reinforcements  had  arrived 
when  the  news  of  Fannin's  surrender  came.  The  army  was  about 
to  attack  the  Mexicans,  but  on  hearing  this  intelligence,  Houston 
decided  not  to  risk  a  battle — these  few  men  around  him  were  the 
only  hope  of  Texas — and  ordered  a  retreat.  I  held  no  councils 
of  war,''  he  said,  in  announcing  this  movement  to  the  govern- 
ment. "If  I  err,  the  blame  is  mine.''  The  retreat  was  commen- 
ced on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-sixth  of  March ;  being  rein- 
forced by  one  hundred  and  thirty  men.  Encamping  west  of  the 
Biazos,  the  enemy  gradually  advanced  upon  them.  The  Texans 
had  received  some  reinforcements,  and  had  also  succeeded  in 
bringing  up  two  six-pounders,  the  famous  pieces  of  artillery  pre- 
sented by  citizens  of  Cincinnati,  and  named  the  Twin  Sisters. 
They  crossed  the  Brazos,  and  here  Houston  told  them  that  he  had 
been  blamed  by  some  because  the  Texans  were  not  permitted  to 
meet  the  enemy;  but  that,  as  soon  as  circumstances  would  per- 
mit, they  should  have  fighting  to  their  satisfaction.  Texas  could 
not  survive  two  battles ;  they  could  not  merely  check  the  enemy  ; 
•  he  must  be  whipped,  and  the  work  done  in  one  fight. 

On  the  seventh  of  April  Houston  notified  the  army  to  be  ready 
Tor  action  at  any  moment.  The  spies  kept  them  informed  of  the 
movements  of  the  enemy,  and  on  the  nineteenth  they  learned 
that  Santa  Anna  was  there  in  person.  The  Texans  continued 
their  march,  closely  followed  by  the  Mexicans,  until  on  the 
twenty-first  both  were  encamped  near  the  San  Jacinto  river. 
Here  at  noon  of  that  day  a  council  of  war  was  held  under  a 
tree,  the  officers  discussing  whether  they  should  attack  the  enemy 
or  await  an  attack  from  him.  Some  of  them  urged  that  the 
strength  of  Santa  Anna's  position  and  the  coolness  of  his  veterans 
would  be  disastrous  to  the  raw  militia  of  their  army,  but  others 
favored  the  attack.  A  bridge,  which  was  the  only  passage  to  the 
Brazos,  was  hewn  down  by  the  Texans  to  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  the  Mexicans.  About  three  in  the  afternoon,  the  Texan  army 
formed  in  line  of  battle.  The  twin  sisters  opened  a  destructive 
fire  upon  the  Mexicans  when  within  about  two  hundred  yards  of 
their  breastworks ;  and  the  whole  line,  advancing  in  double-quick . 
time,  crying  "Eemember  the  Alamo  !  Eemember  (Joliad !"  pour- 
ed a  murderous  fire  into  their  ranks.  The  Texans  never  halted, 
but  on  the  left  pressed  on  to  the  woodland,  driving  the  Mexicans 
before  them,  the  cavalry  on  the  right  meeting  with  the  same  sue* 
cess.    In  the  center  the  enemy's  artillery  had  been  taken,  a^i 


JIB  TEXAS  WAR  POR  INDEPENDENCEc 


HOUSTON  DICTATING  ORDERS. 


turned  against  his  own  flying  forces.  The  Texan  commander  was 
everywhere  along  the  line  of  attack,  encouraging  and  directing 
his  men ;  often  getting  in  front  of  his  own  gunners. 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


In  fifteen  minutes  from  the  time  of  the  first  assault  the  Mexi- 
cans were  flying  in  all  directions.  With  terrible  slaughter  among 
the  fugitives  the  flight  continued,  men  and  horses,  dead  and  dy- 
ing, forming  a  bridge  through  the  morass  for  the  pursuers.  Not 
many  of  the  Texans  were  wounded;  the  commander-in-chief  had 
his  horse  shot  two  or  three  times,  and  received  a  severe  wound 
in  the  ankle.  Still  the  chase  continued,  Houston  still  at  the  head 
of  his  men.  The  Texans,  having  no  time  to  load,  clubbed  their 
guns;  then  they  used  their  pistols,  and  their  bowie-knives  next 
came  into  requisition.  Night  fell,  and  the  pursuit  was  given  over 


HOUSTON  AT  SAN  JACINTO. 

for  that  day.  The  victors  secured  seven  hundred  and  thirty  prison- 
ers, and  provided  for  the  wounded  of  both  armies  as  well  as  they 
could.  Two  hundred  and  eight  of  these  were  Mexicans,  twenty- 
five  were  Texans;  six  hundred  and  thirty  of  Santa  Annans  men, 
and  eight  of  Houston's  had  been  killed.  The  Texans  had  taken, 
besides,  a  large  quantity  of  arms,  great  numbers  of  horses  and 
mules,  the  camp  equipage  and  the  military  chest  of  the  enemy, 
the  latter  containing  about  twelve  thousand  dollars.  The  impor- 
tance of  this  acquisition  will  be  apparent  when  it  is  stated  that 


TEXAS  WAR  FOB  INDEPENDENCE. 


Ihere  v7as  no  such  thing  belonging  to  the  Texan  army.  Houston 
had  started  out,  on  this  campaign,  with  a  private  fund  of  two 
hundr<\d  dollars;  one-fourth  of  this  sum  had  been  given  to  a 
Toman  who  had  been  widowed  by  the  Alamo  massacre,  as  he 
vJiad  not  the  heart  to  refuse  her  request  for  aid. 

The  excitement  of  the  battle  had  hitherto  made  him  forget  hia 
wound,  but  now,  in  the  comparative  quiet,  Houston  found  his 
foot  intolerably  painful;  the  boot  was  cut  from  the  swollen  limb, 
and  everything  done  to  alleviate  the  pain. 

Detachments  were  sent  put,  the  next  morning,  to  scour  the 


THE  FLNDINQ  OF  "THE  MtOHTY  AlH)  GLOMOUS." 

country  for  the  purpose  of  making  prisoners.  One  of  a  party  of 
five,  while  in  the  act  of  shooting  a  deer,  discovered  a  Mexican 
fugitive.  All  rode  after  him,  but  he  fell  into  a  morass.  They 
had  some  difficulty  in  getting  him  out.  In  answer  to  their  ques- 
tions, he  said  he  was  a  private  soldier;  they  pointed  to  the  fine 
jtuds  in  his  shirt,  when,  burstioig  into  tears,  he  admitted  himself 
an  aide-de-camp  of  the  general.  Not  being  able  to  walk,  he  was 
placed  on  one  of  the  horses  and  taken  to  the  Texan  camp. 

As  the  party  passed  the  prisoners,  a  murmur  of  surprise  wa«s 
heard,  increasing  until  the  equally  surprised  captors  distinguish- 
ed the  words,  "El  Presidents     It  was,  indeed,  the  Mexican 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


21» 


dictator  who  had  caused  the  massacre  of  the  Alamo  and  Goliad 
— Santa  Anna,  himself,  "  The  Miglicy  and  Glorious/' 

Being  conducted  into  the  presence  of  Gen.  Houston,  he  imme- 
diately proposed  to  negotiate  for  his  release.  Gen.  Houston  told 
him  that  the  civil  government  of  Texas  would  take  cognizance 
of  that;  that  he  had  no  authority  to  treat.  Houston  rebuked 
Santa  Anna  for  his  cruelties,  and  received  the  excuse  that  the 
rules  of  war  had  devoted  Travis  and  his  men  to  death,  since  they 
had  refused  to  surrender,  although  unequal  to  defense ;  that  if 


SAOTA  ANNA  BEFOKE  HOUSTON. 

Pannin  had  ever  capitulated,  he  was  not  aware  of  it;  XJrrea  had 
deceived  him,  and  informed  him  that  they  were  vanquished ;  and 
he  had  orders  from  his  government  to  execute  all  that  were  taken 
with  arms  in  their  hands,  Eaising  himself  painfully,  Houston 
said : 

"  General  Santa  Anna,  you  are  the  government — a  dictator 
has  no  superior/'  ' 

It  was  at  this  interview  that  Houston,  excited  by  a  remark  de- 
rogatory to  the  bravery  of  the  Texans,  by  one  of  Santa  Anna's 
subordinates,  took  from  his  pocket  an  ear  of  dry  corn,  and,  hold- 
ing it  out,  said,  Sir,  do  you  ever  expect  to  conquer  men  who 
fight  for  freedom,  when  their  general  can  march  four  days  with 
one  ear  of  corn  for  his  rations?'' 


220 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


The  prisoner  was  assigned  quarters  near  Gen.  Houston's  tent^ 
and  was  treated  with  great  magnanimity.  An  armistice  wa8 
agreed  upon,  Santa  Anna  sending  orders  to  Gen.  Filisola,  his 
second  in  command,  to  retire  to  Victoria  and  Bexar,  to  set  free 
all  prisoners,  and  not  to  ravage  the  country.  Dilferent  opinions 
prevailed  in  the  Texan  cabinet  as  to  what  course  should  be  pur- 
sued; a  small  minority  favored  the  immediate  execution  of  the 
monster,  but  the  majority  judged  that  such  a  course  would  enrage 
Mexico  still  more,  and  lose  them  the  sympathy  so  active  in  their 
favor  in  the  United  States.  It  was  finally  decided  to  treat  with 
him,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of  May,  1836,  a  public  and  a  secret 
treaty  were  signed,  by  which  Santa  Anna  acknowledged  the  in- 
dependence of  Texas,  and  engaged  to  remove  his  troops  from  the 
state. 

Gen.  Houston's  wound  had  proved  so  troublesome  that  he  was 
obliged  to  ask  for  leave  of  absence,  and  go  to  New  Orleans  for 
surgical  aid  3  leaving  Texas  May  5,  he  was  absent  j  ust  two  months. 
Returning,  he  found  the  independence  of  Texas  fully  establish- 
ed, although  the  treaty  had  not  yet  been  entirely  fulfilled,  Santa 
Anna  being  still  a  prisoner.  His  detention  rendered  Texas  all 
the  safer,  as  the  Mexicans  found  it  impossible  to  raise  another 
invading  army  without  the  presence  of  their  dictator. 

A  general  election  was  ordered  by  the  President  to  take  place 
in  September;  for  the  highest  office,  the  supreme  executive,  there 
were  two  candidates,  Stephen  P.  Austin  and  Henry  Smith.  About 
two  weeks  before  the  election,  an  assembly  of  more  than  six 
hundred  persons  at  Columbia  nominated  Houston.    On  his  ar- 
rival in  New  Orleans  he  had  been  solicited  by  a  number  of  Tex- 
ans  there,  to  become  a  candidate  for  the  presidenc}^,  but  had 
positively  refused.    At  this  time,  each  of  the  two  candidates  re- 
presented a  political  party,  the  power  of  each  party  being  about 
equal.    Houston  knew  that  he  would  be  obliged  to  fill  all  appoint- 
ive offices  with  his  political  friends,  and  his  administration  would  . 
meet  with  severe  criticism  and  stern  opposition  from  the  other  ■ 
party.    Houston  himself  was  free  from  the  trammels  which  ■ 
bound  the  others,  and  believing  that  he  could  effect  a  consolid- 
ation of  both,  he  accepted  the  nomination,  and  was  elected  by  a  1 
large  majority.    The  constitution  adopted  at  this  election  gave  H 
him  the  appointment  of  his  cabinet,  and  Gen.  Austin  was  made 
Secretary  of  State,  and  Ex-Gov.  Smith  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

Besides  the  questions  already  mentioned  as  submitted  to  the 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


people  in  this  election,  there  was  another  of  considerable  impor- 
tance, both  now  and  later.  Should  Texas  apply  for  admission 
into  the  Eepublic  of  the  United  States  ?  This  was  decided  in  the  af- 
firmative by  a  nearly  unanimous  vote,  and  Austin  immediately 
went  to  work  to  prepare  instructions  for  the  diplomatic  agents 
that  were  to  be  sent  to  our  capital.  For  three  days  he  worked, 
and  late  into  the  night,  in  a  room  that,  in  spite  of  the  extremely 
cold  weather,  was  without  fire.  The  exposure  brought  on  a  cold 
which  terminated  fatally  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  December. 
Thus  early  in  the  history  of  the  infant  republic  died  ^Hhe  father 
of  Texas,  the  first  pioneer  of  the  wilderness/'  His  untiring  ser- 
vices w^ere  fitly  styled  invaluable  by  the  order  iss-fted  from  the 
War  Department.  His  mission  to  the  United  States  was  a  deli- 
cate and  difficult  one,  but  executed  with  fidelity  and  crowned 
with  success. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  detail  the  events  of  this  administration. 
A  threatened  invasion  from  Mexico  was  repelled;  the  United 
States  acknowledged  the  independence  of  Texas,  but  refused  to 
listen  to  her  request  for  annexation  ;  the  Indians  were  made  to 
keep  at  a  respectful  distance  ;  economy  of  the  strictest  kind  was 
practiced  even  to  the  disbanding  of  the  army.  The  constitution 
made  the  first  presidential  term  only  two  years  in  length,  the 
incumbent  being  ineligible  for  re-election  ;  so  that  in  1838  he  left 
the  office,  that  for  the  next  three  years  was  to  be  filled  by  the 
late  Vice-President,  Gen.  Lamar.  "When  Houston  was  elected 
for  the  second  time  he  found  the  public  debt  enormously  increas- 
ed ;  government  securities  worth  but  fifteen  or  twenty  cents  on 
the  dollar;  the  Indians  hostile  ;  the  Mexicans  threatening  anoth- 
er invasion.  The  Congress,  then  in  session,  was  busily  con- 
sidering questions  of  retrenchment  and  reform,  and  to  them  the 
new  President  lent  his  most  earnest  endeavors.  Yarious  recom- 
mendations of  his  were  acted  upon,  and  a  rigid  economy  prac- 
tised in  all  departments  of  the  government. 

About  this  time,  the  question  of  annexation  to  the  United 
States  was  revived.  Mexico  had  not,  for  six  years,  made  any 
serious  attempt  to  re-conquer  her  revolted  province,  and  the  Tex- 
ans  judged  that  this  would  be  a  point  in  their  favor.  But  the 
Mexicans  heard  of  the  movement,  and  to  keep  up  their  claim, 
sent  a  number  of  small  marauding  parties  into  Texas.  In  view 
of  these  inroads.  President  Houston  recommended  to  Congress 
that  the  archives  of  the  government  be  removed  from  Austin  to 


222 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


some  more  secure  point.  Thereupon  ensued  the  "Archive  War/' 
a  bloodless  combat,  in  which  the  pride  of  the  city  of  Austin  was 
laid  low. 

The  Mexican  raids  continued,  and  in  March,  1842,  San  Antonio 
and  Groliad  were  taken.  Many  prisoners  were  taken  by  the  en- 
emy in  the  succeeding  year,  and  were  badly  treated.  The  re- 
lease of  one  hundred  atid  four  in  the  year  1844  has  been  thought 
to  be  in  accordance  with  the  dying  request  of  Santa  Annans  wife, 
i  Early  in  the  year  1843,  it  was  expected  that  a  large  party  of 
Mexican  merchants,  with  valuable  stocks  of  goods,  would  pass 
along  that  large  strip  of  uninhabited  country  belonging  to  Tex- 
as. They  were  looked  upon  as  legitimate  prey,  since  the  war 
had  recommenced,  and  the  War  Department,  instructed  by  Pres- 
ident Houston,  authorized  the  organization  of  a  party  for  its  cap- 
ture. Col.  Snively,  the  commander  of  the  expedition,  was  in- 
structed to  keep  on  Texas  soil,  make  captures  only  in  honorable 
warfare,  and  pay  one-half  of  the  spoils  into  the  public  treasury. 
This  last  was  regarded  as  an  unreasonable  condition,  and  was 
rejected.  The  party  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  men  set  out  about 
the  middle  of  April,  and,  two  months  later,  fell  in  with  a  party 
of  Mexican  soldiers  sent  to  guard  the  train.  Of  these  seventeen 
were  killed  and  eighty  taken  prisoners.  Elated  with  their  suc- 
cess (  for  they  had  taken  a  good  supply  of  pro  visions  and  horses), 
the  party  separated,  preferring  to  return  by  two  different  routes, 
The  news  that  such  an  expedition  was  contemplated  had  reach- 
ed St.  Louis,  and  two  hundred  U.  S.  dragoons  had  been  sent  out  • 
to  protect  the  caravan.  These  discovered  Snively's  party,  sur^ 
rounded  it,  and  under  pretense  that  it  was  on  the  soil  of  the  Un- 
ited States,  compelled  the  men  to  surrender  and  give  up  their  ? 
arms.  It  was  afterwards  proven  that  they  were  on  Texan  soil,  I 
and  the  United  States  paid  for  the  guns  that  had  been  seized. 

The  miserable  failure  of  this  expedition  caused  it  to  be  after- 
ward disclaimed  by  the  President  as  unauthorized,  but  this  was 
not  sufficient  to  prevent  his  being  blamed  severely  for  it  at  the 
time.  Ifit  had  been  successful,  that  would  have  been  another 
thing  entirely.  But  Houston  was  becoming  unpopular,  because 
of  his  attitude  regarding  the  question  of  the  day — annexation. 
Desiring  it  as  earnestly  as  any  of  his  constituents,  he  dissembled 
his  wishes,  thinking  an  indifferent  attitude  on  the  part  of  Texas 
would  sooner  secure  it ;  this  was  not  generally  understood,  and  he 
was  accused  of  thwarting  the  wishes  of  the  people  in  that  direction. 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


22'd 


A  more  honorable  measure  than  the  Snively  expedition,  was 
the  assertion  of  the  strength  of  the  government  during  the  dis- 
turbances which  occurred  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  country.  Two 
factions,  the  Eegulators  and  the  Moderators,  defying  the  law, 
engaged  in  a  vendetta  3  many  men  on  joth  sides  were  killed  and 
many  unlawful  acts  committed  j  the  militia  was  called  out  and  the 
disturbance  quelled,  but  it  was  several  years  before  peace  was 
established  between  the  more  bitter  members  of  the  two  parties. 

But  the  securing  of  an  armistice  with  Mexico  was  one  of  the 
greatest  events,  if  not  the  greatest  of  Houston^s  second  administra- 
tion. There  was  every  reason  to  believe  that  this  would  result  in  a 
treaty  between  the  two  republics,  by  which  the  elder  would  rec- 
ognize the  independence  of  the  younger.  England  and  Prance 
united  to  insure  the  independence  of  Texas,  on  condition  that 
she  should  not  be  annexed  to  the  United  States.  The  application, 
to  be  admitted  into  the  Union  had  been  renewed,  and  rejected 
again.  The  influence  of  the  two  great  European  powers  that  had 
interested  themselves,  finally  secured  Mexico's  recognition  of 
Texas  as  a  sovereign  power. 

On  the  election  of  Mr.  Polk  to  the  presidency  of  the  United 
States,  the  question  which  had  been  twice  brought  before  them,, 
and  twice  been  disapproved,  was  reconsidered  again,  and  the  Con 
gress  of  the  United  States  invited  the  Republic  of  Texas  to  entei' 
the  Union.  A  convention  was  called  for  the  consideration  of  thi^ 
offer,  and  by  a  vote  of  fifty-five  to  one,  it  was  accepted.  October 
10th,  the  people  ratified  the  action  of  the  convention,  and  De- 
cember 2d,  President  Polk  signed  the  bill  extending  the  laws  of 
the  United  States  over  Texas.  February  19,  1846,  the  republic 
was  finally  merged  in  the  state. 

At  the  first  session  of  the  State  Legislature,  G-en.  Houston  was 
elected  U.  S.  Senator,  and  was  re-elected  in  1847  and  1851.  This 
prevented  his  taking  part  in  the  war  between  Mexico  and  the 
United  States,  which  followed  the  annexation  of  Texas.  An  old 
Jackson  Democrat,  he  was  early  suspected  of  a  leaning  towards 
the  North,  and  this  was  confirmed  by  his  vote  upon  the  question 
of  extending  the  Missouri  Compromise  line  across  the  continent. 
His  leaving  the  Democratic  for  the  Know-Nothing  party,  about 
1854,  made  him  so  unpopular,  that  he  saw  he  would  not  be  re- 
elected in  1857;  so  he  announced  himself  as  an  independent  can- 
didate for  governor.  For  the  first  and  last  time  in  his  life^  he  wasi 
beaten  in  a  popular  election.    Two  years  later,  he  was  an  indo- 


22  \ 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDERGE. 


pendent  Democratic  candidate  for  the  same  office,  and  was  elect' 
ed  by  a  handsome  majority.  In  a  circular,  addressed  to  his  con- 
stituents before  the  election,  he  said:  I  would  lay  down  my 
life  to  defend  any  one  of  the  states  from  aggression  which  en- 
dangered its  peace,  or  threatened  its  institutions.  I  could  do  jio 
more  for  the  Union.  I  could  wish  to  do  more ;  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Union  would  be  the  ruin  of  all  the  states.^' 

The  Legislature  convened  in  extra  session  January  21,  1861, 
and  on  the  first  of  the  succeeding  month,  the  convention  called 
for  the  purpose  of  considering  the  question  of  secession,  passed 
an  ordinance  taking  Texas  out  of  the  Union.  It  was  too  late  to 
prevent  secession,  but  Houston  warmly  advocated  the  plan  of 
Texas  resuming  her  former  position  as  an  independent  republic^ 
and  not  attaching  herself  to  the  Confederacy.  Failing  in  this,  he 
refused  to  take  the  oath  to  support  the  new  government,  aod  was 
promptly  displaced. 

He  made  no  effort  to  assert  his  authority  as  governor,  knowing 
that  it  could  result  in  no  good  to  Texas.  From  his  retirement, 
he  protested  against  the  proclaiming  of  martial  law  as  anti-re- 
publican, and  watched,  ^'  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,^^  the  wai 
measures  adopted  by  both  armies.  Secession  he  thought  would 
be  successful,  and  he  feared  that  both  northern  and  southern  gov- 
ernments would  lose  the  spirit  of  democracy.  ^^The  welfare 
and  glory  of  Texas  will  be  the  uppermost  thought,  while  the 
spark  of  life  lingers  in  this  breast  so  he  said  in  a  publio 
speech  in  the  city  of  Houston,  Mar.  18,  1863,  and,  while  few  be« 
lieved  in  the  principles  that  had  led  him  to  resign  his  office,  nc 
one  doubted  his  sincerity. 

This  was  his  last  appearance  before  a  public  audience.  A  lit- 
tle more  than  four  months  afterward  (July  26,  1863),  the  spark 
was  extinguished  forever — Houston  thought  no  more  of  the  wel- 
fare and  glory  of  Texas.  Even  in  the  whirl  and  turmoil  of  civil 
war,  the  people  turned  aside  for  a  moment  to  show  respect  for 
the  memory  of  the  man  whom  they  had  delighted  to  honor.  The 
hero  of  San  Jacinto,  the  only  man  who  was  twice  president  of 
Texas,  he  had  seen  the  statesmen  and  patriots  of  his  youth  gath« 
ered  one  by  one  to  their  fathers  ;  and  the  only  monument  erect* 
ed  to  his  memory  is  that  imperishable  one  in  human  hearts. 

Has  the  life  of  Houston,  as  here  told,  been  a  history  of  TexaSj 
rather  than  a  biography  of  the  man  ?  Let  it  be  so,  to  fitly  rep- 
resent the  truth.    The  hiotory  of  the  general  cannot  be  told  un* 


TEXAS  WAR.  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


less  his  battles  are  recorded;  of  the  statesman,  unless  the  victor 
ies  of  peace  be  recounted;  of  the  patriot,  unless  the  land  that 
he  loved  be  prominent  on  the  stage.  His  was  the  strong  and 
steady  hand  that  held  the  helm;  the  sail  filled,  the  oars  were 
plied,  but  the  steersman  directed  the  course. 

One  word  of  explanation  remains  to  be  added,  and  that  in  re- 
gard to  his  name.  His  signature,  on  all  the  state  papers  and 
other" documents  existing,  stands  Sam  Houston. There  is  never 
any  use  made  of  the  full  name  of  which  this  is  probably  the  ab- 
breviation. Like  all  heroes  of  the  people,  his  name  is  preserv^^' 
as  he  wrote  it. 


CHAPTER  X. 

KIT  CAESON. 

8H0ET  of  stature,  slender  of  limbj  a  fair,  clean  shaven  face 
with  a  mild  and  quiet  expression —  such  was  the  personal 
appearance  of  a  man  whose  name  is  known  far  and  wide  as  that 
of  as  skillful  a  hunter,  as  intrepid  an  Indian  fighter,  as  ever 
was  celebrated  in  our  legends  of  the  border;  such  was  Kit 
Carson. 

Authorities  differ  as  to  both  time  and  place,  but  those  whom 
we  may  assume  to  have  gathered  their  information  from  his  own 
lips,  say  that  Christopher  Carson  was  born  in  Kentucky  in  1809. 
The  removal  of  his  parents,  in  the  succeeding  year,  to  the  neigh- 
.  borhood  of  Boonslick  (Boonsboro),  Howard  County,  Missouri^ 
had  led  some  to  suppose  that  this  was  his  birthplace,  while  still 
others  make  him  a  native  of  Illinois.  His  father  was  a  skillful 
hunter  and  trapper,  and  the  boy  was  early  trained  to  take  part 
in  the  sport.  By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  age  of  fifteen  he 
was  known  as  a  good  shot  in  the  country  where  all  could  shoot 
well,  and  had  had  more  than  one  perilous  adventure  with  the 
wolves  that  infested  the  neighborhood.  Of  these  trials  of  his 
courage  no  particulars  have  come  down  to  us ;  but  the  bare  fact 
that  there  were  such  stories  told  of  him,  shows  that  the  exploits 
of  his  manhood  were  foreshadowed  by  those  of  his  youth. 
^  In  1824,  his  father  apprenticed  him  to  a  saddler,  but  the  con- 
fined life  was  extremely  distasteful  to  him,  and  after  enduring  it 
for  two  years  he  joined  a  party  of  traders  who  were  going  to 
Santa  Fe.  This  expedition  was  by  no  means  without  danger,  for 
the  route  was  infested  with  hostile  Indians,  who  were  always 
ready  to  commit  depredations  upon  the  caravans.  The  armed  par- 
ty, however,  reached  the  proj^osed  point,  the  capital  of  a  Mexican 
province,  without  encountering  any  such  interruption.  The  only 
accident  of  the  journey  was  a  wound  in  the  arm  of  a  man  whose 
gun  accidentally  went  off  as  he  was  taking  it  from  the  wagon.  Tk© 


KIT  CARSON.  227 

injured  member  grew  rapidly  worse,  and  amputation  being  nec* 
essary,  three  of  their  number,  Carson  and  two  others,  were  ap- 
pointed to  perform  the  operation ;  the  instruments  were  a  razor 
and     old  saw,  while  a  bolt  from  one  of  the  wagons  was  heated 


tod  used  to  cauterize  the  wound.  The  patient  recovered^  much 
to  the  surprise  and  joy  of  the  surgeons.  Carson  spent  some  tim6 
in  Taos,  learning  the  Spanish  language.  Returning  with  anoth- 
er party  of  traders  to  Missouri,  in  the  spring  of  1827,  he  enga^ 


KIT  CARSON. 


ged  himself  as  teamster  to  a  company  of  merchants  bound  for  El 
Paso.  Here  he  remained.  This  was  a  complete  change  from  his 
old  Missouri  home;  the  adobe  huts,  built  to  surround  a  square 
court,  in  the  old  Moorish  fashion,  each  separate  house  forming  a 
fort  that  could  be  defended  by  its  master ;  the  vineyards,  whence 
came  the  light  wine  and  brandy  for  which  the  place  was  well- 
known  ;  the  population,  half  Indian,  half  Spanish  :  all  these  had 
been  known  to  him  in  Taos,  and  he  only  renewed  his  familiarity 
with  them  in  El  Paso. 

The  winter  of  1827-8  was  passed  in  Taos,  in  the  employ  of  Mr. 
Bwing  Young;  thence,  in  the  spring,  he  went  as  interpreter  with 
an  expedition  commanded  by  Col.  Tramell,  bound  for  Chihua- 
hua. While  this  position  was  held  in  higher  estimation  than  any 
he  had  yet  occupied,  he  did  not  find  its  safe  monotony  pleasant, 
and  left  it  to  engage  in  the  more  humble  work  of  a  teamster,  re- 
turning with  his  new  employer  to  Taos.  Here  he  found  an  op- 
portunity to  engage  in  the  pursuit  for  which  he  was  so  eminent 
ly  well  qualified,  and  in  which  he  delighted — hunting  and  trap- 
ping. A  party  of  trappers,  sent  out  by  his  old  employer,  Mr. 
Young,  came  in  with  but  few  peltries,  having  been  driven  away 
from  the  chosen  grounds  by  the  Indians,  and  a  larger  company 
was  organized  for  the  double  purpose  of  chastising  the  savages 
and  trapping  beavers.  The  commander  of  such  an  expedition 
of  course  desired  to  take  with  him  only  experienced  men,  as  raw 
recruits  were  apt  to  create  confusion.  It  was  then  a  high  com 
pliment  to  Kit's  courage  and  ability  that  he,  a  boy  of  nineteen^ 
should  be  allowed  to  join  them  in  this  party. 

They  failed  to  find  the  savages  who  had  committed  the  offense, 
following  a  trail  which  afterwards  proved  to  be  that  of  another 
band  of  marauders.  Acting,  probably,  upon  the  principle  that 
if  these  Indians  had  not  deserved  punishment  already,  they  might 
do  so  in  the  future,  a  sharp  skirmish  ensued  upon  their  meeting, 
and  fifteen  warriors  were  killed.  Proceeding  along  the  Salt 
river,  a  tributary  of  the  Gila,  they  successfully  prosecuted  the 
work  for  some  time,  but  finally  decided  to  go  to  the  Sacramento 
valley.  Their  route  lay  through  a  desert,  where  they  suffered 
dreadfully  for  want  of  water  fir)d  food  ;  with  this,  however,  they 
Were  amply  supplied  by  a  party  oi  Me^ave  Indians,  whom  they 
met  in  the  canon  of  the  Colorado.  The  Mission  of  San  Gabriel 
extended  its  hospitality  to  them.  We  can  hardly  realize  wh^ 
^hey  endured,  or  of  how  much  value  to  the  young  trapper  wiu. 


KIT  CARSON. 

such  a  journey.   Accustomed,  even  in  the  most  sparsely  settled 
districts,  to  roads  more  or  less  plainly  marked,  it  is  hard  for  us 
to  appreciate  the  situation  of  those  who  first  marked  out  these 
roads.    The  difficulties  of  the  route  were  still  farther  enhanced 
by  the  presence  of  the  Indians,  against  whom  they  must  be  al- 
ways on  their  guard.    This  journey  is  far  inferior  in  interest  to 
subsequent  adventures,  if  each  be  considered  singly;  but  taken 
as  an  indication  of  what  he  could  do,  and  as  training  for  his  future 
life  in  that  thinly  settled  country,  it  is  of  very  great  importance. 
The  party  spent  some  time  in  trapping  upon  the  Sacramento 
river,  the  richness  of  the  soil  about  them  supplying  them  with 
abundance  of  food.    The  country  around  them  was  filled  with 
vast  hordes  of  the  Klamath  or  Digger  Indians,  not,  however,  re- 
duced to  the  miser- 
able  wretches  that 
they  are  to-day. 
Then,  they  were  the 
lords   of  the  land, 
subsisting  upon  the 
plentiful  gifts  of 
mother  earth,  strong 
and  brave.  The  vices 
of  the  white  man, 
which   his  superior 
strength  defies,  are 
the    destruction  of 
that  lower  race,  and 
like  those  of  so  many 
other  tribes,  the  mod- 
ern Digger  does  not 
fitly  represent  his 
fathers ;  though  even 
then  this  tribe  was  inferior  to  the  Apaches  and  Comanches.  The 
curious  in  such  matters  may  refer  this  to  the  difference  in  their 
food ;  would  it  not  be  better  to  conclude  that  the  higher  courage 
attacked  the  larger  game,  while  the  Klamaths  were  content  to 
war  upon  and  live  upon  grasshoppers  ?    For  so  did  the  Diggers 
anticipate  the  experiments  of  our  later  entomologistSo 

Long  before  the  days  of  which  we  write,  the  Spaniards  had 
established  missionary  stations  along  the  coast  of  California, 
about  thirty  or  forty  miles  apc^rt,  for  the  purpose  of  Christianiz- 


CHRISTOPELER  CARSON. 


KIT  CARSON. 


ing  the  Indians,  liach  little  community  was  under  the  govern- 
ment of  a  prefect,  always  a  priest,  whose  temporal  authority  was 
equalled  only  by  his  spiritual.  He  was  appointed  by  the  Crown 
of  Spain,  and  that  government  contributed  a  considerable  sum 
for  the  maintainance  of  these  missions.  Attached  to  each  of 
these  stations  was  a  band  of  Indians,  for  whose  labors  the  worthy 
fathers  conceived  that  the  religious  instruction  given  them  made 
a  full  return.  When,  therefore,  the  Indians  became  restive  under 
their  burden  of  forced  labor,  and  forty  of  them  deserted,  the 
missionaries  lost  little  time  in  appealing  to  Capt.  Young  and  his 
trappers,  for  assistance  in  compelling  the  neighboring  tribes  not 


INDIAN  CAPTUKING  HORSES. 


to  harbor  the  fugitives.  Carson,  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  eleven, 
set  out  towards  an  Indian  town  near  San  Gabriel,  and  an  attack 
upon  it  resulted  in  the  destruction  of  one  third  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  the  complete  submission  of  the  others.  Peace  having  been 
thus  restored,  Capt.  Young  sold  a  number  of  furs  to  a  traderj 
who  was  then  at  San  Gabriel,  and  received  in  payment  a  large 
drove  of  horses.  But  the  Indians,  apparently  conquered,  were 
•  only  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  avenge  themselves  upon  the 
trappers,  and  one  night  stole  sixty  of  these  horses  while  the  sen- 
tinel slept,  Carson,  with  a  party  of  twelve,  was  sent  in  pursuit 
of  the  thieves.  It  was  not  difficult  to  follow  the  trail  of  so  largo 
a  drove,  but  so  rapidly  did  the  Indians  retreat  with  their  booty, 


KIT  CARSON. 


231 


that  the  white  men  traveled  about  a  hundred  miles  before  com- 
ing  up  with  them.  Carson  arrived  near  the  Indian  camp,  placed 
his  men  carefully  and  silently,  and  at  a  given  signal  they  rushed 
upon  the  warriors  as  they  sat  eating.  The  savages,  having  no 
fear  of  pursuit,  were  feasting  on  the  flesh  of  some  of  the  stolen 
horses.  The  attack  of  the  white  men  came  upon  them  like  a 
thunderbolt.  Eight  were  killed,  and  the  remainder  scattered  in 
all  directions,  leaving  the  victors  to  return  with  the  horses;  not 
consumed,  and  with  three  Indian  children  that  were  left  in  the 
camp. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  1829,  Capt.  Young  decided  to  go  southward 
to  the  valley  of  th6  Colorado.  Stopping  at  Los  Angelos,  many  of 
the  trappers  became  involved  in  a  drunken  fray  with  the  citizens, 
and  he  left  sooner  than  he  had  intended.  On  the  Colorado  they 
encamped,  and  were  very  successful  in  adding  to  their  stock  of 
furs.  On  one  occasion  they  would  have  lost  all  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  courage  and  address  of  Carson.  Left  in  the  camp  with 
only  a  few  men,  he  was  one  day  confronted  by  a  large  party  of 
Indians,  numbering  two  or  three  hundred.  These  did  not  mani- 
fest any  enmity  to  the  trappers,  and  they  were  apparently  un- 
armed ;  but  Carson  discovered  that  each  one  had  formidable  weap- 
ons concealed  under  his  upper  garment.  He  ordered  them  to  leave 
the  camp,  but  the  Indians,  seeing  how  far  superior  were  their  own 
numbers,  paid  no  attention  to  the  command,  acting  as  if  they  did 
not  comprehend  the  language.  Carson  quietly  drew  up  his  men, 
ai;med  with  their  rifles.  The  old  chief  had  betrayed  a  knowledge 
of  Spanish,  and  to  him  Carson  said  in  that  language  : 

You  see  that  there  are  very  few  of  us,  but  we  are  all  ^  ell« 
armed,  and  determined  to  sell  our  lives  dearly.  Go.^' 

Awed  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  and  the  glance  of  his  eye,  as  much 
as  by  his  words,  the  Indians,  who  never  voluntarily  fr.ce  open 
danger,  sullenly  withdrew.  Their  plan  had  most  probably  been 
to  produce  a  stampede  of  the  horses,  and  thus  secure  them,  after 
they  had  robbed  the  camp  of  the  valuable  furs  in  it.  Although 
the  trappers  were  not  again  disturbed  by  the  Indians,  this  was 
not  the  only  meeting  ;  for,  a  little  later,  they  turned  aggressors, 
and  robbed  the  Indians  of  a  large  drove  of  cattle  and  of  several 
good  horses. 

Eeturning  to  Santa  Fe,  the  furs  were  disposed  of  for  such  a  sum 
that  each  man^s  share  seemed  to  him  a  fortune,  and  each  one  im- 
mediately proceeded  to  get  rid  of  it  as  soon  as  possible,  Carson 


was  not  behind  his  companions  in  their  indulgence  in  the  dissipa- 
tions of  a  Mexican  town.  Having  sown  the  wind  by  killing  his 
opponent  in  a  street  brawl,  the  resulting  whirlwind  blew  him  far 
back  towards  his  old  home  in  Missouri,  Meeting  with  a  party  of 
trappers  on  their  way  to  Utah,  he  joined^them,  remaining  with 
them  some  time    They  suffered,  occasionally,  from  the  depreda- 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 


tions  of  the  Crows  and  the  Blackfeet^  but  so  slightly  that  Fitz* 
Patrick,  who  was  in  command,  would  not  permit  Carson  to  go  in 
pursuit  of  them.  Reinforced  by  another  party,  however,  a  theft 
of  sixty  horses  while  they  were  in  their  winter  camp  he  was 
permitted  to  avenge.  Selecting  twelve  volunteers,  tie  took 
up  the  trail,  and  coming  upon  the  Indians  in  one  of  their  strong- 


KIT  CARSON,  ^33 

kolds,  cut  loose  the  horses,  attacked  their  rude  fort  killed  five 
warriors,  and  made  good  their  retreat  with  the  animals  that  they 
had  recovered.  This  was  the  most  considerable  fight  during  the 
winter.  It  was  during  this  winter  that  Carson  had  a  very  narrow 
escape.  Out  looking  for  "  beaver  sign,''  with  a  few  men,  he 
came  suddenly  upon  a  party  of  sixty  well-armed  and  mounted 
warriors.  Eesistance  was  useless,  and  the  trappers  beat  a  hasty 
retreat,  while  the  bullets  whistled  alarmingly  thick  about  them. 
He  was  accustomed  to  say,  long  afterwards,  that  this  was  one  of 
the  narrowest  escapes  that  he  had  ever  had. 

In  the  spring  of  1832,  the  party  being  upon  a  stream  where  he 
was  convinced  there  was  no  beaver,  Carson,  with  two  others,  left 
them  and  proceeded  to  another  stream.  Here,  high  up  in  the 
mountains,  and  hence  not  disturbed  by  the  Indians,  they  pursued 
their  work  successfully  for  the  whole  seasor .  Taking  the  furs 
to  Taos,  they  disposed  of  them  for  a  good  price,  and  Carson, 
taught  by  his  past  experience,  resisted  all  temptations  to  squan- 
der his  money.  This  was  a  hard  task  for  one  so  fond  of  the  so- 
'^f^ty  of  his  companions. 

During  his  stay  at  Taos,  he  was  invited  by  Capt.  Lee  to  join  an 
expedition  that  he  was  organizing,  and  in  October  of  the  same 
year  set  out  with  about  twenty  traders  and  trappers,  going  north- 
tvard  and  entering  winter  quarters  on  a  branch  of  the  Green  river. 
While  in  the  camp,  a  neighboring  settler  was  robbed  of  six  valu- 
able horses  by  an  Indian  whom  he  had  had  in  his  employ,  and  in 
whom  he  had  hitherto  reposed  great  confidence.  To  Carson  he 
applied,  asking  him  to  pursue  the  Indian  and  retake  the  horses. 
Having  obtained  permission  of  his  employer.  Kit  went  to  a  neigh- 
boring Utah  village,  where  he  was  well-known,  and  prqcured  the 
assistance  of  a  brave  and  hardy  young  warrior,  whom  he  knew  to 
be  reliable.  So  slight  were  the  indications  of  the  trail  ^^^"^  ^hey 
could  only  follow  with  extreme  difficulty  and  slowness  at  first ; 
but  once  convinced  of  its  direction,  they  proceeded  more  swiftly. 
They  had  traveled  about  one  hundred  miles  when  the  Indian's 
horse  fell  sick;  in  vain  did  Carson  urge  him  to  continue  the 
pursuit  on  foot ;  the  warrior  bent  his  steps  homeward,  and  Kit, 
putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  followed  the  trail  for  thirty  miles 
farther.  The  fugitive  spied  him  at  the  same  moment  that  Kit 
saw  the  object  of  his  search,  and  with  true  savage  caution  turn- 
ed to  seek  a  shelter  from  which  he  might  fire  at  his  assailant. 
Galloping  towards  him,  Carson  raised  his  rifle,  took  aim  and  fired 


KIT  (5ZK^(TN. 


just  as  the  Inaiiiii  i  eacned  what  he  thought  woai  J  be  safety.  WHY 
one  bound  the  savage  fell  beside  his  horse,  and  the  report  (>^\? 
own  gun  was  his  only  requiem. 


THE  PURSUIT  OF  THE  HORSE  THIEF. 


ttoon  after  his  return  with  the  horses,  Carson  jomed  a  party 
of  three  others,  with  whom  he  trapped  all  summer  on  the  Lara- 
mie, with  unusually  good  results.  While  hunting  on  foot  for 
game  for  this  camp  he  met  with  the  most  perilous  of  his  adven- 
tures. He  had  just  shot  an  elk,  and  was  preparing  to  take  pos- 
session of  his  game,  when  two  grizzly  bears  rushed  upon  it,  H© 


had  not  yet  reloadf  and  besides,  his  rifle  could  defend  kim  ra« 
ly  against  one;  ih  re  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  make  for 
the  nearest  tree.  The  bears  were  close  behind  him  when  he 
reached  a  sapling,  up  which  he  climbed  as  fast  as  he  could.  Fierce 
with  hunger,  his  pursuers  would  put  their  huge  paws  around  tho 


A  FIGHT  WITH  GRIZZLIES. 

slender  trunk,  and  endeavor  to  reach  him.  Cutting  a  branch  from 
the  tree,  he  would  rap  sharply  each  black  nose  that  came  near 
enough,  and  bruin  would  go  away  growling,  only  to  return  when 
the  pain  ceased,   Nearly  the  whole  night  was  passed  in  this  way, 


236 


KIT  CARSON. 


but  towards  morning  the  bears  departed.  Waiting  until  they 
were^at  a  safe  distance,  Carson  scrambled  down  from  his  perilous 
perch,  and  made  his  way  to  the  camp.  The  elk  he  had  killed 
had  been  devoured  by  the  wolves,  but  he  was  only  too  glad  to 
have  escaped  with  his  life;  and  his  safety  consoled  his  compan- 
ions for  supping  and  breakfasting  on  beaver. 

For  the  fall  hunt,  Carson  joined  a  company  of  fifty,  locating  in 
the  country  of  the  Blackfeet,  around  the  head  waters  of  the 
Missouri ;  but  the  Indians  were  so  numerous  and  hostile  that  they 
removed  to  the  Big  Snake  Eiver.  During  the  winter,  the  Black- 
feet  stole  in  one  night  eighteen  of  their  horses,  for  the  recovery  of 
which  Carson  was  sent  with  eleven  men.  Eiding  fifty  miles 
through  the  snow,  they  came  to  where  the  Indians  had  encamped. 
The  savages,  wearing  snow-shoes,  had  the  advantage,  and  the  par- 
ley which  they  demanded  was  readily  granted.  The  Indians  said 
that  they  thought  the  horses  belonged'  to  the  Snake  tribe;  that 
they  did  not  intend  to  steal  from  the  white  men.  In  reply, 
Carson  asked  them  why  they  did  not  lay  down  their  arms  and 
Smoke.  To  this  question  they  had  no  answer,  but  both  parties 
laid  aside  their  weapons  and  prepared  for  the  smoke.  The  war- 
riors made  long-winded,  non-committal  speeches ;  the  whites 
refused  to  hear  anything  of  conciliation  from  them  until  the 
horses  were  restored.  Thereupon  the  Indians  brought  out  five 
of  the  poorest  horses.  The  whitos  started  for  their  rifles,  and 
the  fight  commenced. 

Carson  and  a  companion  named  Markland  got  hold  of  their 
rifles  first,  and  were  in  the  lead.  Selecting  for  their  mark  two 
Indians  near  to  each  other,  both  took  aim,  and  were  about  to  fire, 
\rhen  Carson  saw  that  Markland's  antagonist  was  aiming  with 
deadly  precision  at  his  friend,  who  had  not  noticed  him.  Chang- 
ing his  aim,  he  sent  his  ball  through  the  heart  of  the  Indian,  and 
tried  to  dodge  the  shot  of  his  own  adversary.  He  was  a  moment 
too  late,  and  the  ball  struck  the  side  of  his  neck,  passing  through 
his  shoulder  and  shattering  the  bone.  The  fight  continued  until 
night,  but  Carson  was,  of  course,  only  a  spectator.  His  wound 
bled  profusely,  and  gave  him  considerable  pain,  but  not  a  word 
of  complaint  escaped  his  lips.  Nightfall  ended  the  fight  in  favor 
of  the  whites,  but  their  situation  was  extremely  precarious,  l^ot 
knowing  how  soon  the  Indians  might  return  with  reinforcements, 
they  dared  not  light  a  fire,  lest  it  should  betray  their  where- 
abouts.   In  the  darkness  and  ?old*  they  held  a  hurried  council, 


i<IT  CARSON 


and  decided  to  return  to  the  camp.  Loss  of  blood  had  rendered 
their  leader  so  weak  that  he  was  unable  to  sit  on  his  horse ;  so, 
contriving  a  rude  litter,  they  carried  him.  Three  others  were 
wounded,  but  so  slightly  that  they  were  able  to  ride  back. 
Arrived  at  the  camp,  a  party  of  thirty  was  despatched  to  pursue 
the  Indians ;  but  it  returned  in  a  few  days,  having  failed  to  over- 
^take  the  marauders. 

I  Carson  had  fully  recovered  from  his  wound  before  the  follow- 
ing summer,  when,  for  the  second  time,  he  attended  the  grand 
rendezvous  of  trappers.  This  meeting  was  held  annually  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  western  wilderness,  and  attended  by  traders, 
trappers  and  hunters  who  were  anxious  to  exchange  the  products 
Df  their  labor  for  goods  and  money.  Parties  came  in  about  the 
time  agreed  upon,  and  encamped  around  the  given  spot.  Those 
who  came  earliest  waited  until  others  had  arrived,  before  they 
began  to  trade,  thus  fulfilling  the  unwritten  law  of  honor  which, 
prevailed  among  them.  It  was  a  motley  crowd  that  was  there 
assembled,  the  traders  dilating  upon  the  difficulty  and  danger  of 
transporting  their  goods  from  St.  Louis, 'a  thousand  miles  away 
Indians  and  white  men  met  there  on  neutral  ground,  and  thf^ 
hardy  hunter  of  the  States  consorted  with  the  no  less  hardy 
French  Canadians.  Nominally  a  peaceful  meeting,  it  was  no 
small  task  to  keep  from  open  fights,  and  it  sometimes  severely 
tasked  those  better  disposed  to  restrain  their  comrades.  Among 
the  more  orderly  was  Carson,  who  did  his  best  to  bury  the  hatch- 
et, even  though  a  large  party  of  Blackfeet,  including  the  Indians 
who  had  stolen  the  horses,  was  present,  protected  by  a  white  flag. 
His  influence  over  the  Indians,  however,  was  considerable  ;  they 
respected  his  courage  too  highly  for  him  to  be  unpopular  among 
them. 

There  was  a  greater  danger  to  be  encountered  among  the  white 
men.  A  French  Canadian,  John  Shuman,  was  notorious  as  a 
bully  and  a  braggart.  So  often  had  his  acquaintances  been  intim- 
idated by  him,  that  none  of  them  dared  resent  the  insults  which  he 
took  pleasure  in  heaping  upon  them.  Encouraged  by  their  sub- 
mission,  and  greatly  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  he  began  to 
try  the  same  treatment  with  the  Americans.  Eiding  about  the 
encampment,  he  denounced  them  as  lily-livered  cowards,  weaker 
than  women,  fit  for  no  manly  sport  or  occupation,  and  deserving 
liberal  applications  of  hickory,  outwardly.  Human  nature  can- 
not stand  everything )  Carson  threw  aside  his  role  of  peace-malr 


er,  and  steppi>?g  out  from  tne  crowd,  E-^ia,  in  nis  softest  and  qui* 
etest  tones  : 

^^I  am  an  Aiwerican,  and  one  of  the  least  of  them.  If  yoQ 
want  to  fight  any  of  us,  you  can  begin  with  me/' 


Carson's  duel  with  the  braggart. 


The  gigantic  Shuman  looked  contemptuously  down  from  his 
seat  in  the  saddle  upon  the  slender,  smooth-faced  young  man  who 
stood  before  him ;  then,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  riding  off 
to  a  little  distance,  then  back  again,  raised  his  rifle  and  took  aim. 
Kit  had  sprung  upon  a  horse  and  was  ready  with  his  pistol.  Both 


KIT  CARSON. 


fired  at  the  same  instant,  Shuman's  ball  grazing  Carson^s  oiieek 
and  cutting  off  a  lock  of  his  hair.  Kit  had  not  aimed  at  a  vita] 
part,  wishing  to  teach  the  bully  a  lesson,  not  to  kill  him  ;  his  ball 
entered  Schuman's  hand,  came  out  at  the  wrist,  and  passed 
through  his  arm  above  the  elbow.  He  begged  abjectly  for  his 
life,  and  never  insulted  Americans  again. 

Arrangements  were  made  at  the  rendezvous  for  the  fall  hunt, 
and  Carson  started  thence  with  a  party  to  the  Yellowstone. 
Meeting  with  little  success,  they  removed  two  or  three,  times  and 
finally  determined  upon  a  wandering  hunt.  Through  the  glit- 
tering white  expanse  of  the  so-called  mud-lakes,  the  vast  prairies 
covered  with  the  worthless  artemisia  and  heavy  sand,  the  weary 
horses  plodded  forty  or  fifty  miles  without  food  or  water.  Winter 
set  in  with  the  severity  common  in  this  latitude,  at  this  elevation, 
and  they  v^ere  on  the  brink  of  despair.  It  had  been  resolved  to 
kill  one  of  the  horses  and  drink  his  blood,  when  they  eame  in 
sight  of  ^  party  of  Snake  Indians.  From  these  they  bought  a 
fat  pony,  aird  the  rank  flesh  was  the  sweetest  they  had  ever  tasted, 
seasoned,  a&  it  was,  by  hunger,  the  best  of  sauces.  Invigorated 
by  this  food^  they  proceeded  on  foot  to  Fort  Hall,  thus  allowing 
their  worn-oi.o  horses  as  much  rest  as  they  could  give  them.  Ar- 
rived at  the  fo.'t,  and  having  recruited  their  strength,  they  start- 
ed  out  on  a  buftilo  hunt,  and  brought  in  as  much  meat  as  theii 
horses  could  carry  ;  bat  on  the  third  morning  after  their  return, 
the  Indians  drove  off  all  their  horses  from  the  corral  in  which 
the  animals  were  confined;  the  sentinel  mistaking  the  savages 
for  the  friendly  red  men  employed  about  the  fort.  Pursuit  was 
out  of  the  question,  as  the  same  trick  had  been  played  a  short  time 
ago  on  the  people  of  the  fort,  and  they  could  only  await  the  ar- 
rival of  a  detachment  of  their  party  which  they  expected  from 
Walla  Walla. 

The  men  expected,  came  in  about  four  weeks,  with  a  plentiful 
supply  of  horses;  with  fresh  steeds,  and  men  well  fed  and  rested, 
they  started  towards  Green  river,  where,  at  a  rendezvous,  a  party 
of  a  hundred  was  organized  to  trap  upon  the  Yellowstone  and 
the  head  waters  of  the  Missouri.  This  was  the  country  of  the 
Blackfeet,  and  as  they  expected  to  meet  these  Indians,  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  while  fifty  were  trapping  and  hunting  for  food,  the 
others  should  guard  the  camp,  and  cook.  Their  precautions  were 
useless,  for  the  small  pox  had  raged  so  fiercely  in  this  hostile 
.  trit>e  that  their  numbers  were  mucii  diminished,  and  the  survivorw 


MT  OABSON. 


24) 


too  depressed  in  spirit  to  attack  the  wLUes.  A  camp  of  tbe 
friendly  Crows,  near  by  the  place  where  tbey  wintered,  gave 
ihera  companionship  and  assistance. 


DEFENui^"^    ^  FALLEN  COMHADB. 

Hardly  bad  they  begun  trapping  j,gain  when  they  learned  thai 
the  Blackfeet  had  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  pestilence, 
which  had  been  less  severe  than  bad  been  represented.  Lears. 


27 


KIT  CARSON, 


Ing  that  they  were  encamped  not  far  from  the  trapping  ground^ 
the  whites  determined  to  take  the  initiative.  Carson  and  five 
companions  went  forward  to  reconnoiter.  Eeturning,  a  party  of 
forty-three  was  organized^  Carson  unanimously  chosen  as  leader, 
and  the  others  left  to  move  on  with  the  baggage.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  Indians  were  overtaken^  and  ten  were  killed  at  the 
first  fire.  Carson  and  his  men  were  in  high  spirits,  and  followed 
up  the  attack  for  three  hours,  meeting  with  but  little  resistance. 
Their  ammunition  began  to  run  low,  and  the  firing  was  less 
brisk,  when  the  Indians,  suspecting  this  to  be  the  state  of  affairs, 
turned  and  charged  upon  them,  uttering  their  terrible  war-cry. 
Enabled  to  use  their  small-arms,  Carson's  men  drove  back  the 
savages  with  considerable  slaughter,  but  rallying  yet  again,  they 
charged  so  fiercely  that  the  trappers  were  forced  to  retreat.  In- 
cited by  the  brave  generosity  of  Carson,  who  placed  himself  be- 
fore a  conapanion  disabled  by  his  horse  falling  upon  him,  and 
shot  the  foremost  of  the  six  warriors  who  rushed  to  get  the  fallen 
trapj)er's  scalp,  his  men  rallied  around  him,  and  fired  again  upou 
the  Indians.  Again  the  trappers  retreated  a  short  distance,  and 
made  a  stand ;  both  parties  seemed  to  be  exhausted,  each  appar- 
ently waiting  for  the  other  to  renew  the  attack.  While  they  thus 
remained  passive,  the  reserve  force  of  the  white  men  came  up, 
and  being  thus  freshly  supplied  with  ammunition,  they  renewed 
the  attack  with  the  old  vigor.  The  desperate  fight  which  ensued 
ended  in  the  defeat  of  the  Indians.  The  Blackfeet  lost  many 
men  in  this  encounter,  and  did  not  again  venture  near  the  trap- 
perfe. 

After  leaving  the  summer  rendei^vous  of  trappers,  and  engag- 
ing in  several  profitable  trades,  Carson  settled  himself  for  the 
winter  to  hunt  for  the  garrison  at  a  fort  on  the  Colorado,  and  in 
the  spring  engaged  in  the  old  business  with  only  a  single  com- 
panion. This,  he  thought,  would  enable  him  to  work  more  qui- 
etly;  as,  personally,  he  was  popular  with  the  Indians,  especially 
with  the  TJtahs,  among  whom  he  was  going;  but  all  the  tribes 
resented  the  presence  of  any  considerable  body  of  white  men  in 
their  territories.  It  was  wliile  on  this  expedition  that  he  had  a 
hand-to-hand  encounter  with  a  large  and  fierce  mountain  lion, 
being  armed  only  with  a  hunting  '  ^  ^ne  long  fangs  of  the 
savage  creature  tore  his  fiesb  '  .^.^lally,  and  faint  with  loss  of 
blood,  he  was  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  it,  when  the  love  of 
lite,  strong  even  when  we  are  in  despair,  incited  him  to  one  more 


KIT  CAHSON  243 

effort,  anu  the  keen  edge  of  his  knife  nearly  severed  the  head 
from  the  body. 

Encamping  with  a  large  party  on  the  old  trapping  ground  on 
the  Yellowstone,  about  midwinter  they  discovered  that  a  large 


INDIAN  WAR  DANCE. 


detachment  of  the  Blackfeet  was  alarmingly  near.  For^y  men, 
headed  by  Carson,  were  sent  to  sustain  their  attack.  Both  sides 
fought  bravely  until  darkness  put  an  end  to  the  contest,  and  dur- 
ing the  night  the  Indians  retired,  taking  their  deaU  with  them 
Tte  whites  knew  that  this  was  but  a  small  portion  of  that  pow- 


U4: 


KIT  CARSON. 


erful  tribe,  which  numbered  about  thirty  thousand,  and  that 
they  would  probably  be  attacked  very  soon  by  a  larger  force. 
Carson  directed  that  a  breastwork  be  thrown  up.  Hardly  had 
this  been  completed,  when  the  Indians  began  to  assemble  around 
the  impromptu  fort.  In  three  days  about  a  thousand  warriors 
were  gathered  around  the  fort.  The  war-dance  took  place  in  sight 
and  hearing  of  the  trappers,  and  at  the  first  appearance  of  day- 
light the  Indians  advanced  ;  only  to  retire,  however,  when  they 
saw  the  strength  of  their  position.  They  had  recognized,  in  the 
preparations  for  defense,  the  hand  of  Kit  Carson,  and  they  dar 
ed  not  again  contend  against  the    Monarch  of  the  Prairies.^' 

Several  seasons  were  passed  in  trapping,  but  no  extraordinary 
adventures  characterized  them.  The  price  of  furs  decreased  so 
much  that  it  was  no  longer  a  profitable  business ;  and  after  eighi, 
years  spent  in  it,  Carson,  now  twenty-five,  decided  to  engage 
himself  as  hunter  to  Fort  Bent.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that, 
while  he  knew  thoroughly  the  lay  of  the  land,''  and  all  the 
minor  points  of  use  to  him  in  guiding  a  hunting  expedition,  his 
lack  of  education  prevented  his  recording  this  knowledge  in  such 
a  way  as  to  confer  a  lasting  benefit  upon  others. 

At  Bent's  Fort  he  found  his  position  extremely  pleasant.  Not 
only  did  he  like  the  work  in  which  he  was  engaged,  but  he  form 
ed  a  sincere  and  lasting  friendship  with  his  employers,  Messrs. 
Bent  and  St.  Vrain.  Here  he  found  no  difficulty  in  feeding  the 
forty  men  in  the  fort,  killing  thousands  of  elk,  deer  and  antelope, 
as  well  as  smaller  game;  while  a  bufi'alo  hunt  afi'orded  him  the 
keenest  pleasure.  His  accurate  knowledge  served  him  well  in  this 
pursuit,  as  did  also  the  respect  and  esteem  of  the  Indians  for  him. 
It  was  while  he  was  acting  as  hunter  to  Bent's  fort  that  some  of 
these  well-disposed  Indians,  having  suffered  considerably  from 
the  incursions  of  the  powerful  Sioux,  sent  to  him  for  assistanct&. 
Such  had  been  his  success  in  hunting  that  he  accepted  this  invi- 
tation, and  accompanied  the  Indians  to  their  camp.  Here  he 
found,  besides  the  painted  Comanches,  to  which  tribe  the  mes- 
sengers had  belonged,  a  considerable  band  of  Arapahoes.  In  the 
council  which  followed,  they  told  him  that  the  Sioux  had  a  thou- 
sand warriors  and  many  rifles;  but  expressed  the  utmost  confi- 
dence in  the  Monarch  of  the  Prairies'  power  to  defeat  thesb 
dreaded  enemies.  Carson  listened  to  the  representations  of  the 
tribes  that  had  sought  his  aid,  and  urged  upon  them  the  superior 
advantages  of  a  peaceful  settlement  of  the  difficulty.    So  great 


KIT  CARSON. 


^45 


was  his  influence  over  them  that  they  consented  to  send  him  as 
mediator,  and  he  succeeded  in  persuading  the  Sioux  to  return  to 
their  own  hunting  grounds  at  the  ^nd  of  the  season. 

It  was  while  he  was  acting  as  1  unter  to  Bent's  Fort  that  he 
married  an  Indian  wife,  by  whom  ho  had  a  daughter  still  living 
In  less  than  a  year  after  her  marriage,  the  mother  fell  a  victim 
to  her  devotion  to  her  husband.  Learning,  when  her  little  daugh- 
ter was  but  a  week  old,  that  her  husband  was  lying  ill  a  hun- 
dred miles  away,  she  mounted  a  horse  and  rode  to  where  he  was* 
A  fever,  thus  contracted,  put  an  end  to  her  life.  When  this 
daughter  was  about  five  years  old,  Carson  brought  her  to  St. 
Louis,  to  put  her  under  such  care  as  would  be  better  calculated 
for  her  improvement  than  the  rude  teachings  of  her  mother's 
people,  or  the  little  training  she  could  receive  from  her  father's 
rough  companions.  Hither  his  fame  had  preceded  him,  and  he 
was  amazed  to  find  himself  a  lion.  But  pleasant  as  such  recog- 
nition might  be,  it  could  not  compensate  him  for  the  life  that  he 
loved ;  and  he  longed  to  return  to  his  old  hunting-ground. 

His  journey  to  St.  Louis  proved  to  be  a  turning-point  in  his 
life,  for  it  was  here  that  he  fell  in  with  Lieut.  John  C.  Fremont, 
then  under  orders  from  the  United  States  government  to  explore 
and  report  upon  the  country  lying  on  the  line  of  the  Kansas  and 
Great  Platte  Eivers,  between  the  western  boundary  of  Missouri 
and  South  Pass.  Bigelow,  in  his  life  of  this  gallant  officer,  pub- 
lished during  the  presidential  campaign  of  1856,  makes  the  state- 
ment that  the  meeting  between  Fremont  and  Carson  was  purely 
accidental  3  but  most  of  Carson's  biographers  represent  that  Fre- 
mont was  familiar  with  the  name  and  fame  of  the  daring  plains- 
man. This  latter  seems  much  the  more  probable  ;  it  is  hardly  to 
be  believed  that  the  active  young  officer,  from  whose  brain  had 
emanated  the  idea  of  this  expedition,  should  never  have  heard  of 
the  most  famous  of  the  hunters — the  "  Thief-Taker,"  as  the  whites 
iiad  named  him;  the  "Monarch  of  the  Prairies,"  as  the  Indians 
called  him. 

Carson  was  engaged  as  guide,  and  proved  an  invaluable  acqui* 
sition  even  to  a  party  composed,  as  this  was  in  great  measure, 
of  voyageurs  familiar  with  prairie  life  by  reason  of  their  services 
to  the  fur  companies.  Twenty-one  men,  principally  Creoles  and 
Canadians,  composed  the  party  at  first;  to  it  being  added  Mr. 
Preuss,  as  assistant  topographer,  a  hunter,  and  the  guide.  In 
May,  1842,  they  left  St.  Louis,  proceeding  by  boat  to  Chouteau's 


246 


KII  CARSON. 


Landing,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas,  whence,  after  a  few  days' 
delay,  they  started  on  the  overland  journey.  For  a  distance  of 
nearly  a  hundred  miles  the  road  was  excellent; 

"  The  prairie  stretched  as  smooth  as  a  floor, 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  see," 

and  the  path  "Vvas  «o  well-defined  that  they  experienced  no  diflS- 
culty  in  pursuing  it.  Arrived  at  the  ford  of  the  Kansas,  they  met 
with  their  first  delay  since  leaving  Chouteau's  Landing.  The 
horses  were  driven  in  and  reached  the  opposite  bank  in  safety, 
and  although  the  oxen  occasioned  some  anxiety  by  swimming 
down  the  river,  they  were  recovered  the  next  morning.  An  in- 
dia-rubber boat,  twenty  feet  long  and  five  feet  wide,  was  launch- 
ed, and  on  it  were  placed  the  body  and  wheels  of  a  cart,  the 
load  belon^^  ]ng  to  it,  and  three  men  with  paddles.  Such  was  the 
velocity  of  the  current,  joined  to  the  unwieldy  nature  of  the 
freight,  that  th*^  boat  oould  only  be  successfully  steered  to  the 
opposite  side  by  means  of  a  line  held  in  the  teeth  of  one  of  the 
best  swimmers,  who  assisted  in  drawing  the  vessel  over.  Six 
passages  had  been  made  in  this  way,  the  swimmer  being  Basil 
Lajeunesse ;  night  was  rapidly  approaching,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  the  work  of  transportation  should  be  completed.  Disre- 
garding the  advice  of  Carson,  Lajeunesse  started  out  the  last 
time  with  a  double  load;  the  boat  capsized,  and  it  was  only  with 
considerable  trouble  that  the  cargo  was  recovered,  Carson  and 
the  hunter.  Maxwell,  were  in  the  water  the  greater  part  of  the 
next  day  searching  for  the  lost  articles,  and  were  so  affected  by 
the  exposure  that  the  party  had  to  remain  encamped  there  an- 
other day.  Two  days  more  were  passed  at  a  camp  seven  miles 
further  up  the  river.  Provisions  were  dried  and  repacked,  cart 
covers  painted,  and  marksmanship  perfected.  . 

Leaving  this  camp,  they  marched  onward  through  a  country, 
where  for  several  days  their  only  difficulty  was  the  scarcity  of 
water.  Reaching  the  country  occupied  by  the  Pawnees,  they 
found  it  would  be  necessary  to  keep  guard  at  night,  since  these 
thieving  hordes  openly  attacked  the  weaker  parties,  and  endeav- 
ored to  carry  off  the  horses  of  even  the  stronger.  It  may  be 
readily  believed  that  any  report  of  the  Indians  being  in  th<^ 
;aeighborhood  was  carefully  investigated.  Such  an  alarm  was 
given  by  a  man  who  had  fallen  some  distance  in  the  rear,  and 
who  came  spurring  up,  shouting  Indiana,  Indians Being 
O[uestioned,  he  said  that  he  had  been  near  enough  to  see  and  coi^^* 


KIT  CARSON. 


A  PAWNEE  CHIEF  IN  EULL  COSTUME- 


248 


KIT  CARSON. 


a  war-party  of  Indians  following  them,  stating  the  number  as 
twenty-seven.  A  halt  was  called,  arms  examined,  and  while  they 
were  preparing  for  the  attack  which  they  expected,  Carson  gal- 
loped off  alone  in  the  direction  that  the  Indians  were  said  to  be 
advancing.  Eeturning,  he  said  that  the  twenty-seven  Pawnees 
had  changed  to  six  elk,  that  had  scampered  off  when  they  had 
passed.  A  more  serious  alarm  resulted  from  their  first  buffalo 
hunt,  some  days  later,  in  Carson^s  being  thrown  from  his  horse 
by  its  fall  among  the  herd.  This,  although  really  a  serious  ac- 
cident, did  not  not  prevent  his  engaging  in  the  hunt  the  next 
day.  A  threatened  attack  of  the  Sioux  produced  great  confu- 
sion in  the  camp,  as  they  were  not  accustomed  to  the  perils  of 
the  life  upon  the  plains.  Carson,  knowing  that  these  men  were 
not  to  be  depended  upon  in  an  encounter  with  the  savages,  as 
were  those  experienced  trappers  who  had  been  his  companions 
in  the  previous  years,  made  his  will,  and  the  knowledge  of  this 
Increased  the  fears  of  the  men  ;  but  this,  like  the  other  dangers 
they  had  encountered,  passed  off  without  any  serious  result.  The 
grasshopper,  that  scourge  of  the  West,  whose  ravages  have  of 
late  years  been  more  familiar  than  ever  to  us,  had  destroyed 
nearly  aU  the  vegetation  in  the  country  through  which  they  were 
shortly  to  pass,  and  famine  had  so  weakened  the  Indians  that 
they  were  unable  to  attack  Fremont's  party. 

Carson's  position  in  this  expedition  was  honorable,  as  testify- 
ing to  his  reputation  as  a  guide  and  hunter;  but  it  has  by  no 
means  been  accorded  the  consideration  which  it  deserved.  The 
party,  as  before  stated,  consisted  almost  entirely  of  French  voy- 
ageurs,  who  had  spent  their  lives  in  hunting  in  the  less  dangerous 
regions  farther  east;  there  was,  besides,  a  hunter  of  experience  in 
the  country  through  which  they  were  passing ;  all  were  alike  in 
their  jealousy  of  Kit  Carson,  and  their  anxiety  to  supplant  him 
wherever  possible  in  the  favor  of  the  commander.  So  well  did 
the  Creoles  succeed  in  causing  his  claims  to  be  overlooked,  that 
he  was  not  included  in  the  party  which,  on  the  fifteenth  of  Aug- 
ust, ascended  the  highest  peak  of  the  Eocky  Mountains  and 
planted  the  American  flag  on  the  summit  of  the  height  hitherto 
untrodden  by  the  foot  of  man. 

The  return  trip  was  accomplished  without  accident,  the  party 
arriving  in  St.  Louis  Oct.  17th,  less  than  five  months  from  the  date 
of  departure,  Carson  leaving  them  at  Fort  Laramie.  From  this 
point  he  proceeded  to  New  Mexico,  where  he  settled  near  his  old 


KIT  CARSON. 


249 


headquarters,  Taos ;  married  a  Spanish  laay,  and  went  to  farm- 
ing;  beinx?  occasionally  employed  as  a  hunter  by  his  old  friends, 
Messrs.  Bent  and  St.  Vrain,  of  Bent's  Fort.  In  June,  1843,  he 
ieard  that  Capt.  Fremont  had  organized  a  second  expedition, 
starting  from  Kansas  City  May  29th,  and  resolved  to  see  his  old 


commander.  His  was  too  noble  a  heart  to  think  that  he  had 
been  slighted  before:  if  he  had  noticed  the  enmity  of  his  compan- 
ions at  all,  he  had  by  this  time  forgotten  it.  Setting  out  from 
Taos,  he  journeyed  seventy  miles  before  he  fell  in  with  the  party; 
Fremont,  conscious  of  the  value  of  his  services,  immediately  ex- 


350 


KIT  CARSON. 


tended  him  a  cordial  invitation  to  join,  which  was  accepted  with- 
out the  least  hesitation.  On  leaving  Taos,  Carson  had  expected 
only  to  meet  Fremont,  and  immediately  return,  but  the  allure- 
ments of  the  journey  ivere  such  as  he  could  not  resist. 

The  destination  proposed  for  tLe  first  part  of  their  journey  was 
the  Great  Salt  Lake,  which  a  division  of  the  party,  including 
Fremont,  Carson,  and  five  others,  reached  by  descending  Great 
Bear  Biver.  Embarking  in  the  india-rubber  boat,  they  found 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  this  great  inland  sea  in  a  craft  which 
hasty  construction  had  made  unseaworthy,  while  the  waves  in 
the  distance  were  lashed  by  the  rising  wind  into  foamy  white- 
ness. The  transparency  of  the  water  enabled  them  to  see  the 
bottom  of  the  lake  through  its  emerald  depths  j  yet  deceived 
them  somewhat  as  to  the  real  distance  between  them  and  the 
yellow  sand  beneath.  They  directed  their  course  towards  one 
of  the  lower  islands,  reaching  it  about  noon.  The  spray,  which 
had  covered  them  with  a  crust  of  salt,  clothed  the  low  cliff's  of 
this  island  with  a  glittering  mantle  of  whiteness,  and  the  hollows 
in  the  rocks  were  lined  with  the  same  substance  to  the  depth  of 
one-eighth  of  an  inch.  One  thing  from  which  they  sufi'ered  on 
the  journey  had  been  the  lack  of  salt^  a  want  which  they  were 
now  fortunately  able  to  supply,  as  the  water  proved  to  be  a 
saturated  solution  of  common  salt,  without  those  other  substances 
which  render  the  water  of  the  ocean  bitter.  Encamping  for  the 
night  upon  the  island  (which  they  named  ^'Disappointment,'^  be- 
cause, afar  off,  they  had  thought  its  barren  shores  looked  fertile), 
they  were  lulled  by  the  murmur  of  the  waves  beating  upon  the 
cliff's.  Returning  in  the  morning  to  the  camp  where  they  had 
left  two  of  their  companions,  they  remained  upon  the  shores  of 
the  lake  for  some  time,  subsisting  upon  what  game  they  could 
kill.  This  was  but  a  poor  resource,  and  they  were  glad  to  wel- 
come  the  other  division  of  the  party  that  came  with  supplies. 

The  severe  and  early  winter  of  this  high  latitude  was  now  ap-- 
preaching,  and  Fremont,  knowing  that  some  of  his  party  would 
not  be  able  to  endure  its  hardships,  called  them  together  and 
told  them  of  what  was  yet  to  be  undergone.  Eleven  of  the  party  * 
consented  to  return  to  the  settlements,  twenty-five  pushing  on- 
ward to  the  limit  of  their  journey.    Difficulties  thickened  around  V 
them.    Although  it  was  only  the  latter  part  of  September,  the  t 
weather  was  very  cold,  and  the  wintry  rain  was  blown  directly 
in  their  faces.    It  was  no  longer  possible  to  journey  regularly  ] 

'i 

i 


KIT  CARSON. 


251 


every  day,  and  be  ceitain  of  finding  a  suitable  place  for  their 
camp  at  night.  The  many  short  and  steep  ascents  in  the  roac 
consumed  the  strength  of  both  men  and  horses;  and  each  cart 
had  to  be  pushed  up  each  steep  inclination  by  the  men.  Two 
buffaloes  were  killed  by  Carson,  and  an  ox  that  they  had  brought 
with  them  was  slaughtered.  The  only  Indians  with  whom  they 
met  were  those  tribes  whose  whole  life  was  spent  in  the  search 
for  food.  Diggers  and  the  kindred  fish-eating  Indians.  Both 
live  during  the  summer  upon  the  most  loathsome  animals;  with] 
long  hooked  sticks  they  draw  the  lizards  from  their  holes,  and 
by  circles  over  the  wide  plains  they  drive  into  pits,  prepared  for 
the  purpose,  the  abundant  grasshoppers.  In  winter  time  they  re- 
tire to  those  homes  which  a  beneficent  nature  has  fashioned  for 
them — the  caves  in  the  rocks. 

By  the  presence  of  ,^.uch  inhabitants  was  the  sterility  of  the 
country  made  manifest,  but  Fremont  pushed  bravely  on  until  he 
nad  fulfilled  the  orders  under  which  he  was  acting.  The  arrival 
at  a  point  on  the  Columbia  river,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in 
a  bee-line  from  its  mouth,  connected  his  surveys  and  observations 
with  those  of  Commander  Wilkes^  and  fulfilled  his  instructions, 
ile  was  not  satisfied  with  the  execution  of  his  orders.  Although 
it  came  in  the  form  of  an  order  from  the  War  Department,  per- 
*nission  to  undertake  this  second  expedition  had  been  obtained 
with  difiiculty,  and  even  rescinded  after  it  was  given ;  and  he 
vvas  so  enthusiastic  over  his  work  that  he  determined  to  take 
another  route  on  his  return,  three  principal  points  being  the  spec- 
(al  objects  of  interest.  These  were  Klamath  Lake,  a  lake  called 
Mary's,  and  a  large  river  known  by  report  as  Bonaventura,  flow- 
ing from  its  headwaters  in  the  Eockies  to  the  Pacific.  The  difii- 
"Culty  of  their  undertaking  was  enhanced  by  the  season,  and  by 
the  youth  of  some  members  of  the  party,  several  of  whom  were 
not  twenty-one.  The  journey  is  one  full  of  interest  to  the  scien- 
tist; as  the  only  white  men  by  whom  that  country  had  been  tra- 
versed were  the  hunters,  who  lacked  skill  and  will  to  transfer 
their  knowledge  to  the  printed  page;  but  as  far  as  reaching  the 
three  bodies  of  water  above  mentioned  is  concerned,  it  was  a 
failure,  simply  because  two  of  them  have  no  existence,  and  the 
third,  Klamath,  is  a  lake  when  the  snows  from  the  neighboring 
mountains  are  melting,  and  a  green  plain  during  the  remainder 
of  the  season. 

Day  after  day  they  journeyed  painfully  on  in  the  hope  of  find* 


252 


ing  the  ferule  valley  and  wooded  shores  of  the  river  of  Good 
Luck  ^  but  at  last  the  hope  was  recognized  as  a  vain  one,  and  they 
determined  to  cross  the  mountains.  For  a  few  days  they  had  fol» 
lowed  a  broad  trail,  and  thus  were  relieved  from  anxiety  regard- 
ing suitable  places  for  encampment.  Carson  had  described  to 
them  in  glowing  language  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento,  where, 
it  will  be  remembered,  he  had  been  some  fifteen  years  before. 
Towards  this  Land  of  Promise  they  bent  their  steps,  undismayed 
by  the  fact  that  it  was  the  middle  of  January,  and  that  there 
were  mountains  to  be  crossed.  To  the  c&mp  established  on  the 
head  waters  of  the  Salmon-trout  Eiver,  came  scores  of  Indians  to 
warm  their  nearly  naked  bodies  at  the  white  men's  fire,  and  to 
secure  anything  which  could  be  gotten  by  fair  means  or  foul. 
These  were  by  no  means  disposed  to  underrate  the  difficulties  of 
crossing  the  mountains;  one  old  man,  who  seemed  particularly 
intelligent,  communicated  to  them  by  signs  the  information  that 
in  the  proper  season  for  making  the  journey  across  the  moun- 
tains it  was  six  sleeps  to  the  place  where  the  white  men  lived; 
but  that  now  the  journey  could  not  be  made ;  that  the  snow  would 
be  over  their  heads.  Fremont  replied  that  the  men  and  horses 
were  strong  and  would  beat  down  a  road  through  the  snow;  and 
a  judicious  display  of  the  bales  of  scarlet  cloth  and  the  various 
trinkets  they  had  brought  with  them,  so  wrought  upon  the  old 
man  that  he  began  to  describe  the  country  beyond  the  mountains : 
if  they  were  able  to  pass  through  the  snow,  he  gave  them  to  un- 
derstand  they  would  find  abundance  of  grass  six  inches  high  and 
no  snow.  This  far  he  had  been  on  elk  hunts,  and  he  brought  into 
the  camp  a  young  man  who  had  been  to  the  settlements.  Cap- 
tain Sutter's  lordly  domain  was  on-ly  about  seventy  miles  from 
them,  they  knew,  and  persuading  the  young  Indian  to  act  as 
guide,  they  provided  him  with  stouter  moccasins  than  he  was 
wearing,  and  comfortably  warm  clothing.  Arraying  himself  in 
the  blue  and  scarlet  cloth,  and  the  green  blanket  which  they  gave 
him,  he  strutted  about  the  camp  certainly  the  most  gorgeously 
attired  of  all  in  it.  Him,  with  two  others,  Fremont  kept  in  his 
own  lodge  that  night;  Carson,  who  had  previously  shown  them 
the  use  of  his  fire-arms,  lying  across  the  entrance. 

The  commander  addressed  his  men  upon  the  undertaking  the 
next  day,  not  disguising  the  probable  hardships,  and  telling  them 
the  distances  as  he  had  calculated  them.  They  cheerfully  assen- 
ted to  his  decision,  and  preparations  for  departure  were  immedi- 


&IT  OABBON. 


253 


ateiy  begun.  Provisions  were  very  low.  A  dog  which  had  beo« 
found  near  Salt  Lake  and  shared  their  life,  had  now  become  fat, 
and  being  killed  made  a  strengthening  meal  for  the  party.  There 
was  no  one  who  did  not  realize  the  difficulty  and  danger  of  the 
undertaking,  and  with  a  silence  unusual  to  the  light-hearted, 
talkative  Creoles,  they  set  out. 

The  sun  deepened  as  they  advanced.  One  man  with  his  horse 
led  the  way,  beating  down  a  path  for  the  others  until  both  were 
tired ;  xalling  back  to  the  rear,  the  next  man  took  his  place.  The 
road  which  they  had  made  was  at  sunset  strewn  with  the  camp 
equipage,  the  horses  floundering  in  the  snow,  being  unable  to 
carry  anythingc  Reaching  a  level  spot  protected  on  one  side  by 
the  mountain,  and  on  the  other  by  a  ridge  of  rock,  they  encamped 
for  the  night.  A  strong  wind  commenced  at  sunset,  and  the  night 
was  bitterly  cold — one  of  the  most  severe  they  had  yet  exper- 
ienced. Here  two  Indians  joined  them,  one  an  old  man  haran- 
guing them  at  considerable  length  regarding  the  difficulties  of 
the  particular  pass  they  had  chosen,  and  professing  his  ability 
to  show  them  a  better  way.  The  Indian  guide  was  much  affect* 
ed  by  his  repetitions  of  "  Eock  upon  rock,  snow  upon  snow,  rock 
upon  rock,'^  and  began  to  lament  having  left  his  own  people,  to 
die  before  he  reached  the  whites. 

Awaking  early  in  the  morning,  Fremont  saw  this  temporary 
guide  standing  shivering  before  the  fire,  and  threw  another  blan- 
ket over  the  Indian's  shoulders.  A  few  moments  afterwards 
they  missed  him ;  he  had  deserted,  and  they  never  saw  him  again. 

A  part  of  the  day  was  spent  in  the  construction  of  snow-shoes 
and  sledges,  that  the  journey  might  be  completed  with  more 
ease.  Fremont  and  Carson  left  the  men  to  this  work,  and  climb- 
ed up  the  mountain  to  see  what  lay  before  them  j  arrived  at  such 
a  point  in  the  pass  as  commanded  a  view  beyond  the  range.  Kit 
recognized  with  delight  the  lower  peaks  near  the  coast  with 
which  he  had  been  familiar  fifteen  years  before;  pointing  out  to 
the  leader  the  various  points  of  interest  as  marking  certain  ad- 
ventures. With  almost  incredible  difficulty  the  body  of  men  ad- 
vanced through  the  snow,  which  was  from  five  to  twenty  feet 
deep.  The  first  day  after  the  encampment  noted,  a  distance  of 
only  four  miles  was  traversed  ;  many  being  unused  to  snow-shoes^, 
and  all  of  them  nearly  blinded  by  the  glaring  whiteness.  Dayfi 
were  spent  in  beating  down  the  shqw  with  mauls.  -^^^  tJK«»>  -th^ 
animals  might  be  led  along  that  road ;  and  fifteen  aayt^  alter  toe 


254 


desertion  of  their  Indian  guide,  they  encamped  upon  the  summit 
of  the  pass,  a  thousand  miles  ^romthe  Columbia  Eiver.  The  vrJ 
ley  lay  before  them,  and  they  thought  the  worst  was  over;  but 
the  descent  was  less  easy  than  might  have  been  thought.  Deep 
fields  of  snow  lay  beneath  them,  and  there  were  other,  though 


FREMONT  RESCUED  BY  CARSON. 

lower  mountains  to  be  crossed  ;  but  before  them  lay  the  goal,  and 
far  oif  there  glittered  in  the  evening  sun  a  silver  line  and  a 
broad  expanse  of  azure — the  Sacramento  Eiver  and  San  Francisco 
Bay.  Yet  so  often  had  they  been  deceived,  that  the  question 
arose  in  each  one^s  mind:  ^^Is  it  not  another  salt  inland  lake? 


KIT  CARSON. 


Here  again  the  snow  must  be  beaten  down  to  make  a  roadway 
for  the  beasts  of  burden,  and  while  the  others  of  the  party  were 
engaged  in  this,  the  leader  and  the  guide  went  on  ahead  to  re- 
connoiter  and  select  the  best  possible  directions  for  the  path. 

Coming  to  a  small  stream  bordered  on  either  side  by  rocks, 
Carson  bounded  across,  landing  in  safety  upon  the  opposite  side, 
but  Fremont's  moccasin  glanced  from  the  icy  rock  and  he  fell  in- 
to the  little  river,  it  was  a  few  moments  before  he  could  recover 
himself,  and  Carson,  thinking  only  of  the  danger  to  his  leader, 
sprang  into  the  midst  of  the  floating  ice  to  rescue  him.  Happily,  no 
evil  results  ensued.  Slowly  the  work  of  making  a  road  went  on, 
and  at  a  snail's  pace  the  party  advanced  towards  the  valley.  Such 
were  the  hardships  which  they  underwent,  that  more  than  one 
strong  man  was  deranged  by  them.  At  last,  one  month  after  the 
first  encampment  upon  the  mountain-side,  they  reached  Mr.  Sut- 
ter's ranch,  and  received  a  most  cordial  welcome. 

Carson  left  the  party  as  soon  as  his  services  were  no  longei 
necessary,  and  went  back  to  Taos.  Here  he  bought  a  farm,  bur ' 
a  house,  and  settled  down  to  the  quiet,  uneventful  life  of  a  hard- 
working agriculturist.  Before  they  separated,  however,  he  had 
promised  Fremont  to  act  as  guide  again,  if  another  expedition 
should  be  organized  ;  and  when  that  officer,  in  the  spring  of  1845, 
sent  to  claim  the  fulfillment  of  that  promise.  Kit  sold  at  a  great 
sacrifice  the  property  that  he  had  accumulated,  and  placing  his 
I  family  under  the  protection  of  Messrs.  Bent  and  St.  Vrain,  went 
to  the  ajDpointed  rendezvous.  The  story  of  the  early  part  of  this 
expedition  possesses  little  interest  to  us ;  it  is  only  when  the 
party  have  reached  California  that  the  plot  thickens.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  Texas,  which  nine  years  before  had  won  its  in- 
dependence from  Mexico  by  a  sanguinary  contest,  had  this  year 
made  a  successful  application  for  admission  into  the  Union ;  and 
that  this  was  the  very  year  in  which  the  Mexican  "War  commen- 
ced. The  threats  of  the  Mexican  officers  in  California  somewhat 
alarmed  Fremont,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  begin  hostilities,  but  he 
was  permitted,  when  they  found  he  did  not  mean  to  withdraw, 
to  remain  and  finish  his  work.  But  although  openly  they  were 
friendly,  or  at  least  neutral,  the  Indians  were  instigated  by  them 
to  attack  the  Americans,  as  the  people  of  the  United  States  are 
called  bv  both  Mexicans  and  Indians.  It  was  rumored  that  a 
\fc^usand  warriors  \<reTG  on  their  way  there,  where  they  were  at 
the  time  intending  to  destroy  that  and  any  other  American  post. 


256 


KIT  CARSON. 


Captain  Fremont  had  now  been  ten  days  at  Lawson's  Post, 
awaiting  opportunity  for  continuing  his  journey.  Finding,  how« ' 
eyer,  that  such  there  was  not  likely  to  be,  a  party  was  organized 
to  march  against  the  savages,  and  thus  aid  the  more  defenseless 
points.  With  five  men  from  the  post,  besides  his  own  command, 
they  set  out.  Carson  having  been  elected  Lieutenant  of  the  conv 
pany,  the  choice  of  the  leader  was  thus  confirmed  by  his  men. 
They  soon  found  the  trail  of  a  larsre  party  of  Indians,  and  follow- 
ing it  closely,  came  up  with  them.  The  savages  repelled  the 
attack  with  vigor  and  courage,  but  were  defeated  with  terrible 
slaughter,  and  retreated  in  dismay  to  their  fastnesses  in  the 
mountains.  The  newly-chosen  lieutenant  was  in  the  thickest  of 
the  fight,  as  always,  and  did  noble  execution  upon  the  enemies. 

Eeturning  to  Lawson's  Post,  they  completed  their  prepara- 
tions, and  recommenced  their  perilous  journey.  Fremont  had 
determined  to  return  byway  of  Oregon,  and  open  up  a  new  road 
between  the  northern  and  southern  settlements.  Proceeding 
northward,  they  passed  several  days  in  tranquil  journeyings; 
when  one  evening,  just  as  they  had  finished  preparations  for  the 
night,  they  were  surprised  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  two 
white  men  in  their  midst.  They  were  only  too  well  aware  of 
the  hardships  and  dangers  which  these  two  men  must  have  en- 
countered, and  accorded  them  a  hearty  welcome.  Warmed  and 
fed,  they  were  permitted  to  tell  their  story.  They  were  part  of 
a  detachment  of  six  men,  escorting  a  United  States  ofiicer  across 
the  plains  with  despatches  for  various  points  in  California ;  he 
being  instructed,  after  these  despatches  should  have  been  deliv- 
ered, to  find  Capt.  Fremont  wherever  he  might  be.  They  had 
left  the  main  party  two  days  before,  and  had  only  escaped  from 
the  Indians,  that  pursued  them  more  than  once,  by  the  swiftness 
of  their  horses. 

Fremont  and  Carson,  with  a  picked  body  of  ten  men,  immedi- 
ately set  out  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  messengers.  In  the 
trackless  wilderness,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  find  a  wandering 
party,  but  Carson  advised  a  halt  at  a  certain  pass,  and  here  the 
other  party  joined  themo  The  officer  proved  to  be  Lieut.  Gilles- 
pie, with  letters  for  Fremont  from  his  family  —  the  first  news  he 
had  received  of  them  since  the  beginning  of  the  journey.  He 
sat  up  until  midnight,  keeping  up  a  good  fire,  but  as  the  men 
had  marched  sixty  miles  without  a  halt,  he  did  not  reqiDje  9 
guard  to  be  kept  for  the  remainder  of  the  night. 


1 


KIT  CARSON. 


259 


At  last  the  fire  died  down ;  the  cominander  slept  as  soundly  a.« 
fils  men — more  soundly  than  one  of  them.  An  unusual  sound,  a 
dull  thud  as  of  a  heavy  blow, — was  that  a  groan  ? — and  Carson's 
light  sleep  was  broken. 

What's  the  matter  there  V  he  called  to  Basil  Lajeunesse,  who 
lay  beside  him. 

No  answer  came.  Springing  up,  he  saw  im  far  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  tell  it,  that  the  blow  of  an  axe  had  crushed  in  the  heads 
of  Basil  and  his  next  neighbor — one  had  never  known  what  kill- 
ed him,  the  other  had  groaned  as  he  died.  Aroused  by  Kit's 
voice,  the  four  friendly  Delawares,  and,  a  moment  later,  the 
whites,  sprang  up.  Each  man  fought  for  his  life,  and  the  Indian 
chief  having  been  killed,  Jie  Klamaths  fled.  Three  of  the  whites 
had  been  killed  and  one  o^  the  Delawares  wounded.  These  very 
Indians  had  been  tc  ie  camp  a  few  days  before,  and  although 
there  was  little  meat  on  hand,  Capt.  Fremont  had  divided  with 
them,  and  had  even  unpacked  a  mule  to  give  them  knives  and 
tobacco. 

Sadly  they  left  the  encampment,  bearing  with  them  the  bodies 
of  their  fallen  comrades  as  long  as  they  could  carry  them;  then, 
because  a  grave  could  not  be  dug  in  that  hard  soil  without  im- 
plements,  they  buried  them  under  the  fallen  timber.  They  did 
not  again  omit  the  precaution  of  placing  a  guard  at  night — espe. 
cially  necessary,  since  the  Indians  throughout  the  whole  region 
were  in  arms.  Lieutenant  Gillespie  had  brought  the  information 
that  war  with  Mexico  had  been  declared,  and  Fremont  deter- 
mined to  go  back  to  California.  Making  the  circuit  of  Klamath 
Lake,  he  encamped  at  a  spot  nearly  opposite  that  where  his  three 
men  had  been  killed,  and  sent  Carson,  with  ten  men,  forward  to 
see  if  there  were  an  Indian  town  in  the  neighborhood,  leaving  an 
attack  to  his  discretion.  The  little  party  soon  came  upon  an  In- 
dian village  containing  about  fifty  lodges.  By  the  commotion 
in  the  town  they  knew  that  their  vicinity  had  been  discovered, 
and  lost  no  time  in  attacking  the  Klamaths.  The  Indians  fought 
as  all  men  do  in  defending  their  homes,  but  were  at  length  com- 
pelled to  retreat,  and  Carson  and  his  party  took  possession  of 
tiie  village.  This  was  the  most  highly  adorned  of  any  that  they 
had  yet  seen,  and  the  lodges  were  provided  with  unusually  con- 
venient appliances  and  utensils  for  cooking;  but  Carson  felt  that 
its  destruction  was  necessarj^,  and  gave  orders  accordingly.  The 
^cending  s^ioke  gave  Fremont  notice  that  an  encounter  had 


260 


cer  OAitsoii. 


taken  place,  and  not  knowing  its  issue,  he  hurried  forward  with 
the  main  body;  but  he  arrived  only  in  time  to  hear  the  pleasant 
news  of  victory. 

They  moved  away  from  this  spot,  but  soon  Fremont  deter^ 


CARSON  SAYEP  BY  FREMONT- 

mined  to  punish  the  Indians  still  more,  if  possible.  sent 
back  a  party  of  twenty  to  the  ruins  of  the  Tillage  to  lay  in  wait 
fer  the  return  ©f  the  Indians,  who  would  naturally  soon  revisit 
^  and  look  after  their  dead.   Soou  about  Miy  savage  appeared. 


KIT  CARSON. 


261 


and  word  was  sent  to  the  main  body,  as  by  previous  arrangement. 
Fremont,  Carson  and  six  men  hastened  to  reinforce  the  party. 
On  approaching  the  niins,  Carson  saw  only  one  Indian  wander- 
ing about,  and  dashed  at  him,  raising  his  rifle  to  fire;  but  the  gun 
only  snapped,  and  he  was  apparently  at  the  mercy  of  the  savage, 
who  instantly  drew  an  arrow  to  the  head  and  would  have  shot 
Carson  dead;  but  Fremont  had  seen  his  friend's  danger,  and, 
plunging  the  rowels  into  the  side  of  his  horse,  he  reached,  knock- 
ed  down  and  rode  over  the  Indian  before  the  arrow  could  leave 
the  bow,  thus  saving  Kit's  life  by  prompt  and  brave  action. 

Inspired  by  their  successes,  they  continued  on  their  journey  to 
the  valley  of  the  Sacramento.  Four  days  after  the  attack  upon 
the  Indian  village  they  came  to  a  point  where  the  easiest  road 
led  through  a  deep  canon,  but  Carson,  scenting  danger  ahead, 
advised  another,  although  a  more  difficult  route.  It  was  well  that 
they  acted  upon  this  counsel,  for  a  large  party  of  the  Klamaths 
lay  m  ambush  in  the  narrow  passage.  Disappointed  at  this  fail- 
ure of  their  plans,  they  rushed  out  and  attacked  the  whites,  but 
were  repulsed  without  much  trouble.  One  old  warrior  stood  his 
ground,  advancing  from  tree  to  tree  cautiously,  and  shooting  rap- 
idly at  Carson  and  another  man  who  were  edging  their  way  to- 
wards him.  At  last,  an  unlucky  exposure  of  his  person  brought 
Kit's  rifle  into  position,  and  in  another  moment  the  ball  from  it 
had  reached  the  savage's  heart. 

Beaching  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento,  they  had  not  been  long 
in  camp  before  the  men  began  to  grow  restless  from  inactivity, 
and  Fremont  decided  not  to  wait  for  positive  orders.  Sonoma 
was  taken,  and  !JIonterey  would  have  yielded  to  them  if  Commo- 
dore Sloat  had  not  anticipated  them.  The  Americans  in  Cali- 
fornia rallied  in  great  numbers*  around  Fremont's  party,  inde- 
pendence of  Mexican  rule  was  declared  by  them,  and  the  Bear 
Flag  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  floated  side  by  side  over  the  camp. 

San  Diego  was  taken  after  Los  Angelos  had  been  occupied  and 
abandoned,  and  here  Commodore  Stockton  established  himself, 
appointing  Col.  Fremont  Governor  of  California,  and  Carson, 
with  a  force  of  fifteen  men,  was  sent  with  despatches  to  Wash^ 
ington.  He  was  instructed  to  make  the  journey  in  sixty  days  if 
possible;  this  he  felt  confident  he  could  do.  Coming  upon  a  par- 
ty of  Apache  Indians,  his  boldness  disconcerted  them,  and  they 
provided  him  with  fresh  horses  for  the  continuance  of  his  jour- 
ney.   His  friendly  relations,  personally,  with  the  Mexicans,  en. 


262 


KIT  CARSON. 


abled  him  to  obtain  from  them  a  fresh  supply  of  food.  He  was 
not  far  from  Taos  when  he  descried  a  speck  moving  across  the 
prairies,  which  he  knew  could  not  be  any  natural  object.  As  it 
drew  nearer,  he  found  it  was  an  expedition  sent  out  by  the  Uni 
ted  States  Government,  under  the  command  of  General  Kearney, 
for  the  relief  of  the  few  men  in  California.  He  lost  no  time  in 
presenting  himself  to  this  officer,  describing  the  state  of  affair.s 
there  and  the  nature  of  his  errand.  Gen.  Kearney  proposed  that 
Carson  should  turn  over  the  despatches  to  another  messenger, 
and  return  with  him  and  his  command  to  California.  Kit  knew 
that  the  successful  bearer  of  despatches  would  be  recognized  by 
the  Government  as  a  valuable  servant;  he  was  within  a  shor^ 
journey  of  his  family,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  many  weary 
months  j  but  he  knew,  also,  what  his  services  would  be  worth  to 
Kearney,  and  with  a  cheerful  As  the  General  pleases,^'  gave  up 
I  he  papers  to  the  messenger  selected,  and  took  up  the  march  back 
%o  California. 

From  the  eighteenth  of  October  until  the  third  of  December, 
they  were  on  the  road ;  camping  on  the  evening  of  the  latter  date 
'vithin  the  limits  of  California,  and  advancing  the  next  morning 
'ioward  San  Diego.  A  scouting  party  under  Carson's  command 
captured  and  brought  into  camp  some  spies  that  had  been  sent  out 
by  Gen.  Castro,  then  in  Los  Angelos.  These  being  forced  to  give 
information,  told  them  that  the  Mexicans  were  planning  to  at- 
tack them  before  they  could  join  their  allies  in  San  Diego.  Car- 
son, thoroughly  familiar  with  both  parties,  advised  Kearney  to 
evade  this  attack,  while  his  men  and  horses  were  exhausted  by 
reason  of  the  long  journey,  and  to  take  another  route.  Kearney, 
acquainted  only  with  the  Mexicans  in  the  eastern  part  of  their 
country,  where  he  was  accustomed  to  take  towns  by  simply  sum- 
moning the  alcalde  to  surrender,  and  not  knowing  that  those  in 
California  had  acquired  the  energy  and  cour??.g©  of  his  own  coun- 
trymen, persisted  in  keeping  the  same  route.  Approaching  with- 
in fifteen  miles  of  the  enemy's  forces,  a  reconnoitering  party  re- 
ported that  they  were  encamped  and  strongly  fortified  in  an  In- 
dian  village.  The  scout  was  discovered  and  pursued,  but  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  camp  in  safety. 

Gen.  Kearney  determined  to  attack  them  without  delay,  and 
for  that  purpose  ordered  an  advance  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. Tired  and  hungry,  the  troops  came  upon  the  Mexican 
advance  guard  before  day.  These  men,  stationed  here  to  prevent 


264 


KIT  CARSON. 


a  surprise,  slept  fully  dressed,  with  their  saddles  as  pillows,  and 
their  horses  picketed  near  by,  so  that  each  man  could  be  ready 
to  repulse  an  attack  as  soon  as  awakened  by  the  neighborhood 
of  an  enemy.  The  attacking  force  consisted  of  fifteen  Ameri- 
cans, under  the  command  of  Capt.  Johnson,  with  Carson  as 
second  officer.  The  guard  drew  back  into  camp,  and  the  p^rty 
under  Johnson  and  Carson  was  reinforced  by  Capt.  Moore,  with 
twenty-five  men.  Moore  ordered  an  attack  upon  the  enemy^s 
center,  hoping  to  effect  a  division  and  create  confusion  in  the 
camp.  Onward  they  rode  into  the  jaws  of  death/'  Carson's 
horse  stumbled  and  fell,  carrying  the  rider  to  the  ground.  There 
he  lay,  unable  to  rise  until  the  whole  body  of  horsemen  should 
have  galloped  past.  Eising  as  soon  as  they  passed  him,  he 
caught  up  a  gun  from  the  hand  of  a  dead  comrade  (for  his  own 
had  been  shivered  to  pieces  by  the  fall),  mounted  and  rode  on- 
ward. Many  of  the  men  were  mounted  on  mules  which  proved 
unmanageable,  and  although  the  Mexicans  were  forced  to  retreat 
a  short  distance,  they  soon  discovered  the  condition  of  the 
Americans,  and  turning  back,  transformed  what  would  have  been 
a  nearly  bloodless  victory  into  a  terrible  slaughter.  Thirty  of 
the  forty  mounted  on  horses  were  either  killed  or  severely 
wounded,  and  although  the  main  party  of  the  Americans  came 
up  to  reinforce  their  comrades,  the  Mexicans  fought  with  such 
fierce  courage  that  it  seemed  a  hopeless  case.  Gen.  Kearney, 
although  wounded,  remained  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  hoping 
that  two  mountain  howitzers,  which  were  to  be  brought  up, 
would  materially  assist  his  efforts  to  force  the  Mexicans  to  re- 
treat. But  they  had  not  been  made  ready  for  use  before  the 
gunners  were  shot  down,  and  the  lasso  captured  the  horses  at- 
tached to  one.  Some  fortunate  accident  or  ignorance  rendered 
the  Mexicans  unable  to  use  the  gun,  or  still  greater  slaughter 
might  have  ensued. 

Retreating  to  the  rocky  shelter  near  by,  the  Americans,  who 
had  only  three  officers,  including  Carson,  remaining,  waited  for 
pursuit  from  the  enemy.  Both  sides  were  exhausted  by  the  long 
day's  fighting,  and  neither  cheered  by  the  consciousness  of  a  de- 
cided victory.  The  winter  night  was  spent  in  burying  the  dead 
and  tending  the  wounded;  while  the  enemy  was  receiving  rein- 
forcements of  both  Mexicans  and  Indians. 

The  next  morning  they  took  up  the  line  of  march  towards  San 
piego,  as  had  been  decided  in  the  council  of  war  held  during  the 


KIT  CARSON. 


265 


night  ^  CarsoHj  witii  ti  body  of  twenty -five  able-bodied  men  lead- 
ing the  way,  followed  by  the  wounded  and  those  employed  in 
tending  and  transporting  them.  They  were  about  to  encamp  by 
a  stream  of  water  for  the  night,  when  the  Mexicans  made  a  vig- 
orous charge  upon  them.  Unable  in  their  weakened  condition 
to  support  an  attack  from  such  superior  numbers,  they  were  obli- 
ged to  give  way,  and  retired  to  a  hill  a  short  distance  off.  The 
Mexicans  drew  off  to  a  neighboring  height,  and  commenced  a 
deadly  cannonade;  but  were  dislodged  by  a  party  of  Americans, 
and  the  eminence  was  soon  occupied  by  the  main  body  of  Kearney^s 
men.  They  were  without  food,  and  there  was  only  water  enough 
for  the  men.  Their  condition  was  desperate,  and  only  desperate 
measures  could  be  proposed  in  the  council  of  war  which  was 
held.  Carson  listened  to  what  the  others  had  to  say,  and  then 
rose  in  the  council  and  said  : 

^'  Our  case  is  a  desperate  one,  but  there  is  yet  hope.  If  we  stay 
here,  we  are  all  dead  men;  our  animals  cannot  last  long,  and  the 
soldiers  and  marines  at  San  Diego  do  not  know  that  we  are  com- 
ing. But  if  they  receive  information  of  our  position,  they  will 
liasten  to  the  rescue.  There  is  no  use  thinking  how  or  why  we 
ire  here,  but  only  when  and  how  we  are  going  to  get  away.  I 
will  attempt  to  go  through  the  Mexican  lines  to  San  Diego,  and 
get  relief  from  Commodore  Stockton.^' 

Lieutenant  Beale,  of  the  United  States  Navy,  since  widely  and 
favorably  known  aaan  explorer,  volunteered  to  accompany  him, 
and  the  proposition  being  accepted  by  Gen.  Kearney,  they  left 
the  camp  as  soon  as  it  was  sufficiently  dark.  They  had  learned 
from  their  Indian  allies  the  habit  of  putting  the  ear  to  the  ground 
to  hear  any  suspected  noise,  and  were  thus  able  to  inform  them- 
selves  of  the  movements  of  their  enemies,  sometimes  when  those 
enemies  were  most  confident  of  a  secret  advance  or  retreat.  The 
two  messengers  accordingly  took  off  their  shoes  in  order  to  insure 
silence.  They  found  that  the  Mexicans  had  placed  three  lines 
of  sentinels  around  the  hill  on  which  the  Americans  were  en- 
camped, thus  making  it  extremely  difficult  to  evade  their  watch. 
Several  times,  as  they  crept  cautiously  along  the  earth,  the  sen- 
tinel might  easily  have  touched  them  with  the  long  barrel  of  his 
gun.  Slowly  they  advanced,  and  at  last  got  clear  of  the  Mex- 
ican lines,  though  not  of  all  difficulties.  For  the  distance  of  two 
miles  they  had  crawled  upon  the  ground,  sometimes  each  hear- 
ing the  other's  heart  beat  in  the  deathly  stillness.    At  last 


266 


KIT  CARSONc 


they  could  spring  to  their  feet,  and  speak  to  each  ctner  their  joy 
at  escaping  thus  far.  But  they  must  avoid  the  beaten  roacf,  lest 
they  be  pursued  and  captured  ;  and  through  the  bushes  they  trod 
vTith  shoeless  feet,  the  earth  covered  with  the  thorns  of  the  prick« 
iy  pear.  All  that  night,  all  the  next  day,  far  into  the  next  night 
they  continued  their  journeyo  At  last  the  challenge  of  the  sen- 
tinel at  San  Diego  vras  heard ;  they  answered,  "  Friends,"  and  were 
taken  into  the  presence  of  Commodore  Stockton,  Their  story 
was  told,  and  a  force  of  two  hundred  men  ordered  to  proceed 
by  forced  marches  to  the  relief  of  their  suffering  countrymen. 

Carson  was  detained  in  San  Diego,  as  without  proper  care  there 
was  danger  of  his  losing  both  his  feet,  so  much  had  they  been  lac- 
erated on  this  literally  ^Hhorny  path  of  duty."  Lieutenant  Beale 
was  partially  deranged  by  the  hardships  of  the  journey^  and  did 
not  fully  recover  his  physical  health  for  two  years. 

Gen.  Kearney's  troops  and  the  escort  sent,  reached  San  Diego 
without  being  molested  again  by  the  Mexicans,  whose  numbers 
♦vere  not  sufficient  to  justify  them  in  attacking  so  large  and  strong 
a  force.  The  Americans  remained  for  several  weeks  in  garrison, 
recruiting  their  strength.  A  force  of  six  hundred  at  last  took  the 
field  under  Gen.  Kearney  and  Com.  Stockton,  to  march  against 
Los  Angeles,  where  there  were  about  seven  hundred  of  the 
enemiy.  The  Mexicans  were  soon  forced  to  break  up  the  camp 
^hich  they  had  established  just  outside  the  town,  and  the  Amer- 
icans took  possession  of  Los  Angelos.  Their  success  was  an 
empty  one,  however,  for  the  Mexicans  evaded  their  pursuit,  sur- 
rendering to  Col.  Fremont,  who,  with  a  force  of  four  hundred 
men,  was  marching  from  Monterey  to  Los  Angelos.  Acting  on 
Carson's  advice,  Fremont  had  used  every  effort,  during  his  en- 
tire stay  in  California,  to  propitiate  the  Mexicans ;  but  Kearney, 
judging  them  by  the  natives  of  what  is  now  eastern  Mexico,  was 
at  no  pains  to  conceal  his  contempt  and  aversion.  This  attitude 
was  an  unfortunate  one,  as,  if  Fremont  had  been  in  command, 
the  struggle  upon  the  Pacific  coast  would  have  been  much  less 
sanguinary;  his  policy  of  conciliation  would  have  wc  a  over  many 
of  the  Mexicans  who  admired  their  American  friends  and  wished 
to  imitate  them. 

During  the  few  succeeding  months  of  the  war  there  was  a  lull 
in  the  hostilities  in  this  portion  of  the  country.  Stockton  was 
made  civil  governor,  Fremont  general-in-chief  of  the  California 
forces,  with  Carson  for  his  first  lieutenant.  An  Englishman,  wh? 


KIT  CARSON. 


267 


laiided  in  July,  184(J,  at  Monterey,  from  a  Britisn  man-of-war 
which  had  been  sent  there,  thus  describes  Fremont  and  his  men: 
Fremont  rode  ahead,  a  spare,  active  looking  man,  with  such 
an  eye.  He  was  dressed  in  a  blouse  and  leggings,  and  wore  a 
felt  hat.  After  him  came  five  Delaware  Indians,  who  were  his 
body-guard,  and  have  been  with  him  through  all  his  wanderings. 
The  rest,  many  of  them  blacker  than  the  Indians,  rode  two  and 
two,  the  rifle  held  bj  one  hand  across  the  pommel  of  the  saddle, 
.  .  .  .  He  has  one  or  two  with  him  who  enjoy  a  high  repu- 
tation in  the  prairies. 
Kit  Carson  is  as  well 
known  there  as  the 
Duke  of  Wellington 
is  in  Europe.  The 
dress  of  these  men 
was  principally  a 
long,  loose  coat  of 
deer-skin,  tied  with 
thongs  in  front; 
trowsers  of  the  same, 
of  their  own  manu- 
facture.^' 

Carson  had  joined 
Col.  Fremont  as  soon 
as  it  was  possible  for 
him  to  leave  Kear- 
ney, and  was  gladly 
welcomed.  In  March, 
1847,  he  was  again 
entrusted  with  de- 
spatches for  Washington,  Lieutenant  Bcale  being  detailed  to 
accompany  him  with  reports  for  the  Secretary  of  the  N"avy.  The 
companion  of  his  perilous  journey  from  Kearney's  camp  to  San 
Diego  was  still  so  weak  that  Carson,  for  the  first  twenty  days 
of  the  journey,  had  to  lift  him  off  and  on  his  horse ;  but  the 
pure  air,  healthful  exercise  and  genial  companionship  soon 
strengthened  him.  | 

The  long  journey  was  accomplished  without  harm  to  any  of  the 
party.  The  incidents  of  the  journey  were  such  as  in  these  days 
of  rapid  and  safe  transportation  would  be  alarming,  but  then 
were  regarded  as  every-day  affairs.    Arrived  in  St.  Louis,  Col. 


268 


KIT  CARSON. 


Benton  received  him  cordially.  In  Washington  Mrs.  Fremont 
met  him  at  the  depot,  and  declaring  that  her  husband's  descrip- 
tion had  made  an  introduction  unnecessary,  conducted  him  to  her 
own  and  her  father's  house.  He  was  lionized  to  an  extent  quite 
puzzling  to  himself — he  had  only  done  what  he  ought, — the 
Government's  recognition  of  his  services  being  a  lieutenant's 
commission  in  Col.  Fremont's  regiment.  In  command  of  fifty 
men,  he  started  on  the  return  trip,  which  was  made  in  complete 
safety  until  the  Point  of  Eocks '^  was  reached.  Here,  a  spur 
of  rocky  hills  gives  shelter  to  an  ambush,  while  the  grass  and 
water  at  their  base  invite  the  caravan  to  encamp.  The  horses  and 
cattle  of  a  volunteer  company  camping  here  were  stolen  by  the 
Indians,  but  such  was  the  confusion  that  followed,  that  Carson, 
who  was  resting  near  by  for  the  night,  proved  that  his  right  to 
the  title  of  the  Thief-Taker^'  had  not  diminished,  and  the  ani- 
mals were  all  restored  to  their  owners  by  him. 

The  succeeding  spring  (1848)  he  was  again  sent  to  Wasnington 
as  the  bearer  of  despatches.  At  Santa  Fe  he  learned  that  his 
appointment,  made  by  the  President,  had  not  been  confirmed  by 
the  Senate,  and  was  urged  to  leave  the  dangers  to  be  encounter- 
ed by  those  who  reaped  the  rewards  due  him.  But  although  he 
had  seen  evidences  of  unworthy  favoritism  and  gratification  of 
political  rivalries,  he  had  no  notion  of  letting  such  things  influ- 
ence his  own  conduct.  The  mission  was  successfully  accomplish- 
ed, and,  avoiding  all  difficulties  with  the  Apaches,  he  returned 
in  safety  to  his  home  at  Taos,  and  settled  to  his  old,  peaceful  oc- 
cupation. Here  he  entertained  his  old  commander  and  the  par- 
ty engaged  in  making  a  winter  survey  of  a  pass  for  a  road  to 
California.  An  old  trapper  of  twenty-five  years' experience  had 
been  employed  as  guide,  but  so  incompetent  was  he  for  the  work, 
that  they  blundered  for  half  a  month  through  the  deep  snow. 
Fully  one-third  of  the  party  died  from  starvation  and  freezing. 

Life  at  Taos  was  interrupted  by  occasional  expeditions  as 
guide.  On  the  banks  of  the  broad  mountain  stream  that  flows 
through  the  valley,  stood  the  comfortable  houses  of  Carson  and 
his  friend  Maxwell.  To  both,  but  especially  to  the  former,  came 
the  small,  lithe  Apaches,  and  the  Comanches,  nearly  half  Mexi- 
can in  blood;  they  feared  not  to  come  to  the  home  of  ^'Father 
Kit,"  as  they  have  called  him.  But  like  a  judicious  parent,  he 
never  hesitated  to,  chastise  his  self-styled  children,  as  more  than 
one  incident  bears  witness. 


KIT  CARSON. 


209 


In  the  winter  of  1849-50,  the  Indians  were  more  than  usually 
troublesome.  On  one  occasion,  a  party  of  them  had  stolen  all 
the  horses  belonging  to  a  detachment  often  dragoons,  encamped 
in  the  vicinity  of  Taos.  An  expedition  was  immediately  organ- 
ized, consisting  of  three  settlers,  and  the  soldiers  who  had  been 
robbed,  under  the  command  of  Carson,  by  whom  it  had  been 
planned.  Four  of  the  party,  being  but  poorly  mounted,  fell  be- 
hind, and  the  remaining  ten  came  up  with  the  thieves.  There 
were  twenty  warriors,  all  well-armed  and  well-mounted ;  and 
they  had  no  notion  of  giving  up  their  booty.  Had  they  been 
content  to  abandon  the  animals  to  their  rightful  owners,  they 
would  have  escaped,  but  as  it  was,  the  sharp  conflict  which  fol- 
lowed resulted  in  the  loss  of  five  warriors.  Perceiving  that  the 
leader  of  their  enemies  was  the  one  who  had  never  yet  been  de- 
feated by  them,  they  rode  oflP,  leaving  all  i\e  stolen  horses  but 
four  to  the  attacking  party. 

But  it  was  only  occasionally  that  the  pe^cefulness  of  his  life 
was  thus  interrupted.  Learning  at  some  time  during  the  next 
summer,  that  a  number  of  desperadoes  had  volunteered  to  ac 
company  two  wealthy  men  to  the  settlements  in  the  states,  in 
tending  to  rob  them  by  the  way,  Carson  collected  a  party,  and  in 
one  hour  from  the  time  of  receiving  the  information,  was  follow- 
ing them.  The  first  party  had  been  gone  some  time  when  he  learn- 
ed of  the  plot,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  overtake  them.  At  a  distance 
from  Taos  representing  two  days^  march  a  recruiting  ofiicer  join- 
ed Kit  with  twenty  men,  and  by  forced  marches  soon  overtook 
the  caravans,  and  arrested  the  ring-leader.  Messrs.  Brevoori 
and  "Weatherhead,  when  informed  of  the  dan^^r,  quickly  recov- 
ered from  their  first  surprise^  and  offered  a  reward  proportion- 
ate to  the  service  done.  This,  however,  Carson  was  resolute  in 
refusing,  until,  when  the  traders  returned  from  St.  Louis,  they 
presented  him  with  a  handsome  pair  of  silver-mounted  pistols, 
suitably  inscribed. 

The  next  summer,  he  started  to  St.  Louis  as  a  trader,  intend- 
ihg  also  to  visit  his  daughter,  who  was  married  and  living  therCo 
On  his  return,  he  met  with  "v^liat  was  perhaps  the  most  perilous 
adventure  of  his  life  after  the  close  of  the  war  with  Mexico.  The 
officer  of  a  party  of  United  States  troops  bound  to  New  Mexicc 
had  affronted  the  Cheyenne  Indians  by  whipping  one  of  theii 
chiefs.  The  Indians  were  unable  to  revenge  this  insult  upon  tb^ 
real  ofifender,  but,  full  of  vindictive  rage,  werp>  lying     wait  tot 


KIT  CARSON. 


other  and  weaker  fei^dies  of  white  men.  Carson's  chanced  to  be 
the  next  party  with  which  they  met,  and,  in  consequence,  was 
the  one  which  must  feel  the  weight  of  their  anger.  The  fifteen 
white  men  were  taken  prisoners,  and  were  placed  in  the  midst  of 
a  circle  of  warriors.  As  the  warriors  arranged  all  the  details  to 
their  satisfaction,  settling  how  they  should  dispose  of  the  booty 
and  when  the  prisoners  should  be  put  to  death,  Kit  revolved 
their  situation  in  his  own  mind.  Well  known  and  loved  by  this 
^very  tribe  while  he  was  acting  as  hunter  for  Bent's  Fort,  so  many 
years  had  passed  sine©  then,  so  many  insults  and  injuries  had 
been  heaped  upon  them,  so  many  incompetent  men  had  been  sent 
to  fight  them,  that  they  had  lost  their  old  reverence  for  his  name, 
as  they  had  forgotten  his  face.  The  Indians  had  spoken  in  their 
own  tongue,  thinking  that  it  was  not  understood  by  the  prison- 
ers; judge  of  their  surprise,  then,  when  the  captive  leader  step- 
ped forward  and  addressed  them  in  Cheyenne.  He  told  them  his 
name,  and  reminded  them  of  past  friendship ;  hinting  at  the  pun- 
ishment which  would  certainly  follow  if  they  put  his  party  to 
death.  The  Indians  released  them,  but  Carson  proceeded  cau- 
tiously, knowing  that  h©  was  by  no  means  safe.  After  they  had 
encamped  for  the  night,  he  despatched  a  Mexican  boy,  in  whom  he 
had  great  confidence,  to  Eayedo,  to  ask  for  reinforcements;  so 
that  when  five  warriors  galloped  towards  him  the  next  day,  they 
were  somewhat  astonished  to  see  his  force.  The  rapid  march 
of  the  troops,  in  accordance  with  the  request,  did  the  Indians 
much  good,  as  they  thus  learned  the  spirit  animating  the  soldiers. 

A  long  journey  undertaken  for  the  purpose  of  trapping  on  the 
old  familiar  ground,  a  trip  overland  to  California  with  large  flocks 
of  sheep,  for  a  trading  venture;  a  lionizing  in  the  early  days 
of  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  strangely  changed  between  1848 
and  '53;  faithful  performance  of  his  duties  as  Indian  Agent  for 
New  Mexico,  to  which  post  he  was  ap"oointed  late  in  the  year 
1853;  promotion  from  rank  to  rank  during  the  Civil  War,  until 
he  was  brevetted  Brigadier-General;  important  services  to  the 
government  in  the  task  of  subduing  and  conciliating  the  Indians j 
all  these  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  days.  Adventures,  which  to 
us  would  seem  hair-breadth  escapes,  were  passed  by  as  every  day 
occurrences  in  his  life,  and  rarely  chronicled  by  any  one.  He 
died  at  Fort  Lyon,  CoL,  in  May,  1868.  Nearly  fifteen  years  have 
passed  since  then,  but  the  memory  of  the  "  Monarch  of  the  Prai- 
ries" is  kept  green  by  those  who  love  tales  of  border  adventure^ 


CHAPTER  XL 


GENEEAL  WILLIAM  S.  HAENEY. 


LTHOUGH  settled  as  early  as  1756,  at  the  close  of  thb  last 


was  little  more  than  a  wilderness,  except  around  those  centers 
of  civilization  where  had  been  the  first  settlements.  To  its  wilds 
had  already  been  attracted  some  of  the  most  daring  and  patriotic 
spirits  of  the  time ;  the  Hermitage  was  not  yet  built,  but  already 
the  name  of  Jackson  was  prominent  in  its  annals  3  from  this  state 
was  Missouri  to  call  that  man,  who  sat  longer  than  any  other  in 
the  highest  council  of  the  nation  j  here  were  Crockett  and  Hous- 
ton to  become  known  thereafter;  here  had  removed  a  gallant 
officer  of  the  Eevolutionary  army,  Major  Thomas  Harney,  and 
here,  in  August,  1800,  was  born  the  youngest  of  his  six  sonS;. 
William  Selby  Harney. 

Left  a  widow  when  her  children  were  all  young,  Mrs.  Harney 
intended  her  youngest  son  for  a  sailor,  but  destiny  overruled 
her  wishes.  The  youth  of  seventeen  visited,  during  one  of  his 
school  vacations,  an  elder  brother  serving  as  army  surgeon  at 
Baton  Eouge.  Attracting  the  attention  and  acquiring  the  friend- 
ship of  Gen.  Jessup,  who  was  in  command,  he  was  asked  by  that 
officer  if  he  did  not  wish  to  enter  the  army.  He  replied  that 
his  mother  intended  him  for  the  navy,  but  a  few  days  afterwards 
Gen.  Jessup  handed  him  a  commission  as  second  lieutenant. 
This  bore  the  date  of  Feb.  13,  1818,  and  in  June  ©f  the  s^ame 
year  the  young  officer,  not  yet  eighteen  years  old,  joined  his 
regiment,  then  serving  in  Louisiana. 

His  f^'&t  active  service  was  against  the  pirates  who  then  in- 
fested tlie  Gulf  coast.  There  had  never  been  a  time,  since  the 
sixteenth  century,  when  piracy  did  not  exist  im  the  waters  wash- 
ing the  shores  of  Louisiana,  Florida  and  Cuba.  For  many  years 
the  commander  of  these  outlaws  had  been  the  elder  of  the  two 
brothers  Lafitte,  themselves  French^  and  disposed  to  be  friends 


state  admitted  into  the  union. 


272  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 

with  those  of  their  own  race  in  Louisiana.  It  was  to  secure  the 
aid  of  this  lawless  host  that  Gen.  Jackson,  in  1814,  declared 
martial  law  in  Louisiana,  and  ordered  off  the  bench  the  judge 
who  refused  to  release  the  Lafittes  then  awaiting  trial.  It  is 
doubtful  if  the  famous  battle  could  have  been  gained  without  them, 
and  Gen.  J  ackson  secured  the  pardon  of  the  brothers,  on  condition 
that  they  abandon  the  life  they  had  been  leading.  The  condi- 
tion was  faithfully  observed,  and  the  pirates  being  left  without 

a  leader,  were  scattered  abroad 
to  commit  lesser  depredations. 
It  was  to  pursue  and  punish 
some  of  these  that  Lieutenant 
Harney's  company  was  sent 
soon  after  he  joined. 

On  reaching  the  archipelago, 
the  company  made  their  head- 
quarters at  New,  near  Navig 
Ba}^,  whence  a  detachment  un- 
der Lieut.  Harney  was  sent  tc 
ascend  the  bay  to  reconnoiter, 
Here  he  discovered  and  took 
possession  of  some  vessels  baL 
lasted  with  bar-iron.  Examination  showed  that  the  bars  were  hol- 
low, and  filled  with  quicksilver.  The  detachment  was  delayed  so 
long  that  the  main  body  supposed  all  the  men  in  it  had  been  kill- 
ed, and  were  considerably  surprised  to  learn  of  their  safe  return 
with  the  prize  they  had  captured. 

Cruising  with  his  detachment  in  a  boat  on  the  bay,  Lieut.  Har- 
ney signaled  a  small  sailing  vessel.  She  hove  to,  and  the  detach- 
ment boarded  her. 

Let  me  see  your  papers,  sir,'^  demanded  their  officer  of  the 
captain.  Descending  into  the  cabin,  the  commander  reappeared 
with  what  he  claimed  was  his  ship's  register.  As  the  lieutenant 
looked  at  them,  a  voice  in  his  ear  said  : 

The  captain  has  just  given  his  men  orders,  in  French,  to  get 
ready  to  fight.'' 

In  a  moment  the  crew  had  been  secured,  th^  captain  having 
been  thrown  down  the  hatchway,  and  the  lieutenant  and  his  men 
returned  in  triumph  with  the  smuggler,  go  closed  his  first  cam- 
paign. Soon  after  his  return  in  January,  1819,  he  was  ordered 
to  Boston  on  recruiting  service,  where  he  remained  for  more  than 


GEN.  W.  S.  HARNEY. 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


273 


a  year.  Ordered  to  report  for  active  duty  in  June,  1820,  he  was 
selected  by  Gen.  Jackson,  his  father's  friend  and  neighbor,  to 
serve  as  temporary  aid  during  the  absence  of  an  officer  on  his 
staif.  Jackson  was  at  this  time  acting  as  governor  of  Florida, 
which "  had  been  but  recently  purchased  of  Spain,  and  honored 
Lieut.  Harney  with  the  command  of  the  guard  attendant  on  the 
transfer  of  the  territory  from  one  government  to  anothero  It  is 
not  yet  that  we  find  him  engaged  in  that  active  service  which 
has  connected  his  name  alike  with  the  everglades  of  Florida  and 
the  wilds  of  Oregon. 

It  was  in  1824,  after  he  had  exchanged  into  the  artillery,  that 
Lieut.  Harney  first  saw  St.  Louis,  to  be  in  future  the  home  to 
which  he  should  look  with  longing  eyes.  The  peculiarly  French 
gaiety  which  then  distinguished  the  society  of  this  city,  was 
particularly  to  the  taste  of  the  young  lieutenant,  with  animal 
spirits,  and  possessed  of  physical  advantages  which  secured  hiu? 
the  favor  of  the  ladies.  Ordered  to  proceed  to  Council  Bluffs 
the  orders  were  countermanded  soon  after  they  started,  and  th^ 
four  companies  wintered  at  Bellefontaine,  fifteen  miles  above  th$ 
city;  whence  in  the  spring  they  resumed  the  perilous  journej 
in  keel-boats  up  the  Missouri,  on  the  banks  of  which,  above 
Boonville,  were  no  white  settlements. 

Arriving  safely  at  Two  Thousand  Mile  Creek,  a  council  wa^ 
held  with  the  Crows,  Mandans  and  Gros- Ventres,  which,  bul 
for  Lieut.  Harney,  might  have  terminated  most  disastrously, 
One  of  the  conditions  of  the  treaty  was  the  restoration  of  ^ 
family  of  British  subjects  that  had  been  taken  prisoners,  and  foi 
whose  liberation  the  English  minister  had  asked.  The  inter- 
preter  finished,  stating  all  the  details,  and  the  chiefs  sat  motion- 
less. After  a  moment's  pause,  one  arose  and  said  that  they  were 
willing  to  liberate  the  captives,  but  a  ransom  must  be  paid.  Ir- 
ritable by  reason  of  a  recent  illness,  one  of  the  commissioners^ 
Major  O'Fallon,  lost  his  temper  at  the  cool  audacity  of  the  chief, 
and  advancing  into  the  circle  struck  first  the  speaker  and  then 
two  other  chiefs  over  the  head  and  face  with  his  horse-pistol. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  the  outraged  chiefs  or  the  start- 
led Americans,  as  a  comrade  caught  the  offender  before  he  could 
strike  another  of  the  Indians;  but  the  savage  warriors  seized 
their  arms  and  assumed  a  defensive  or  offensive  attitude.  It  was 
a  moment  of  extreme  peril,  for  the  Indians  far  outnumbered  the 
whites. 


274 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


The  disciplined  troops  were  called  to  arms,  and  the  commis- 
sioners tried  to  explain  to  the  Indians  that  Major  O'Eallon^s  action 
was  the  result  of  delirium.  The  explanation  was  received  in  grim 
silence,  and  when  Lieut.  Harney,  with  outstretched  hand,  advan- 
ced towards  the  Crow  chief,  the  Indian,  folding  his  arms,  looked 
at  him  in  sullen  defiance.  Cursing  the  chief,  he  looked  him  stead- 
ily in  the  eye  for  a  few  moments ;  finally  the  chief  took  the  ex- 
tended hand.  Order  was  restored  and  the  negotiations  contin- 
ued; the  family  was  released  on  payment  of  the  ransom  demand- 
ed, and  a  treaty  of  peace  concluded. 

Lieutenant  Harney,  a  tall,  spare  man,  possessed  of  powers  of 
endurance  equal  to  his  strength,  had  acquired  a  reputation  as  a 
runner  that  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  tribes  dwelling  on  the 
upper  Missouri,  and  they  were  extremely  anxious  to  test  hiis 
fleetness.  He  had  a  race  with  a  Crow  Indian,  but  encumbered 
with  his  uniform,  with  his  pockets  full  of  relics  and  curiosities 
he  had  been  buying  from  them,  the  Indian  won.  Harney  grace- 
fully acknowledged  the  defeat,  and  challenged  his  antagonist  to 
another  race  the  next  day.  The  Indians  retired  well  pleased  with 
the  success  of  their  champion,  and  returned  the  next  day  at  the 
appointed  time  and  place,  laden  with  buffalo  robes,  tobacco,  and 
all  the  ornaments  and  treasures  they  could  muster  for  a  reward  to 
the  winner.  Over  a  level,  grassy  prairie  they  ran,  and  for  some 
distance  the  Indian  was  in  the  lead. 

^^A  little  faster,  Harney,  or  he'll  beat  you,^^  cried  a  brother 
officer,  jealous  for  his  comrade's  reputation.  Eenewing  his  ef- 
forts, he  soon  passed  the  Indian,  and  was  the  first  to  reach  the 
goal,  a  half-mile  from  the  starting  point. 

"I  w^ouldn't  have  had  you  lose  that  race  for  a  thousand  dol- 
lars,'' said  Gen.  Atkinson.  Both  sides  felt  much  interest  in  the 
race,  and  his  fleetness  of  foot  raised  him  greatly  in  the  consider- 
ation of  the  Indians. 

Eeturning  to  the  east,  at  Council  Bluffs  he  heard  of  his  pro- 
Motion  to  the  rank  of  captain,  and  at  the  same  time  received  an 
©^ffer  which  was  a  sore  temptation  to  the  soldier  with  no  fortune 
but  his  good  name  and  his  sword.  Struck  with  his  manly  cour- 
age and  energy,  Geuo  Ashley,  an  eminent  pioneer  citizen  of  St. 
Louis,  proposed  to  fit  out  a  trading  expedition  to  the  Yellow- 
stone, and  place  Harney  in  charge  of  it;  but  the  soldier,  born 
for  the  battle-field,  declined  the  generous  proffer. 

Arriving  at  St.  Louis  in  October.^  1825,  he  was  ordered  to  re- 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HABNEYc  275 


port  to  his  regiment  for  duty  in  the  Creek  Nation,  where  he  re- 
mained  until  the  succeeding  June.  Ordered  to  New  Orleans  then, 
he  there  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar;  as 
well  as  of  an  entirely  different  persoft,  the  ex-pirate  Lafitte.  A 


276 


year  later  xie  proceeded  to  the  north,  where  the  long  imprison- 
Ki'^nt  of  Black  Hawk  was  whetting  his  appetite  for  war ;  that  no- 
ted chief  having  been  captured  while  on  a  marauding  expedition 
with  Eed  Bird,  and  held  for  trial. 

His  movements  for  the  next  two  years  are  of  but  little  inter- 
est. True,  it  was  at  Fort  Winnebago,  on  Green  Bay,  in  1828,  that 
he  first  met  a  certain  second-lieutenant  in  the  army,  Jefferson 
Davis,  with  whom  he  formed  a  friendship  that  lasted  for  fifty 
years,  unshaken  by  political  differences. 


ANOTeER  RACE  AND  A  COLD  BATH. 


Stationed  at  Portage-des-Sioux,  between  the  Fox  and  the  Wis- 
-eonsin,  in  the  winter  of  18B9-30,  he  volunteered  to  take  his  com- 
pany to  the  pineries,  to  cut  timber  for  a  fort.  They  had  return- 
ed to  the  c^mp,  waiting  for  spring  to  open.  The  weather  was  bit- 
^  ter  cold,  and  the  Fox  Eiver  frozen  over,  when  another  exciting 
foot  rae^  occurred.  An  Indian  had  broken  one  of  the  rules  of  the 
garrison,  and  Capt.  Harney,  always  a  strict  disciplinarian,  resol- 
ved to  administer  a  flogging.  Believing  in  a  fair  chance  for 
every  one,  he  told  the  Indian  that  if  he  reached  a  certain  point 
without  being  overtaken,  having  a  start  of  a  hundred  yards,  he 
should  escape  the  flogging.    The  race  was  on  the  ice.  and  both 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


277 


men,  moccasined,  belted  and  stripped  for  the  run,  set  oif  at  full 
speed,  the  captain  swinging  a  cow-hide.  The  red  man  ran  foi 
his  skin,  the  white  man  for  his  reputation,  and  despite  his 
greater  motive,  the  Indian  knew  that  the  cow-hide  was  com- 
ing nearer  to  him.  Directing  his  course  towards  one  of  the  nu- 
merous air-holes,  he  sped  safely  over  the  thin  crust  of  ice,  through 
which  his  heavier  pursuer  sank  into  the  cold  water.  An  expert 
swimmer,  Capt.  Harney  with  a  few  strokes  reached  the  thick 
ice,  but  his  cow-hide  was  lost,  and  he  returned  to  camp.  The 
Winnebago  had  sufficient  consideration  for  himself  to  keep  away 
from  the  camp  while  Captain  Harney  remained  there. 

We  again  take  leave  of  our  hero  until  1832,  going  back  two  years 
from  that  date  to  explain  the  position  of  the  Indians  with  regard 
to  the  Government.  In  June,  1830,  many  of  the  Indians  sold 
their  lands  to  the  government  and  prepared  to  remove  west  of 
the  Mississippi,  but  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  the  Sioux,  Omahas,  lowas, 
and  Ottawas,  refused  to  remove  to  the  reservations  provided  for 
them.  Keokuk  was  the  head  chief  of  the  first  mentioned  tribe, 
and  used  his  utmost  efforts  to  persuade  them  to  adopt  the  treaty, 
but  Black  Hawk^s  influence  outweighed  his,  and  the  latter's  ar- 
guments were  backed  by  the  memory  of  the  unprovoked  brutal- 
ity of  the  white  settlers.  Secret  negotiations  among  the  tribei 
had  almost  consolidated  the  various  nations,  and  Keokuk,  re* 
penting  of  the  sale  of  his  country,  endeavored,  without  success, 
to  secure  different  terms  from  the  government.  Thinking  them- 
selves safe,  the  warriors  of  the  tribe  set  out  on  their  fall  hunt;  re- 
turning to  find  their  women  and  children  without  a  shelter,  the 
white  people  having  taken  possession  of  their  villages.  Encamp- 
ing on  the  Mississippi,  they  at  length  resolved  upon  re-taking 
their  towns,  but  neither  party  could  overcome  the  other,  and 
they  decided  to  live  together.  This  arrangement  resulted  badly 
for  the  Indians,  as  they  were  exposed  to  every  kind  of  fraud. 
Black  Hawk  determined  that  his  people  should  not  be  the  aggres- 
sors, and  they  carefully  refrained  from  acts  of  violence  and  blood-j 
shed. 

The  governor  of  Illinois,  frightened  by  the  threatened  war, 
called  out  the  militia  to  assist  Gen.  Gaines,  but  that  officer  succeed- 
ed in  effecting  his  pacific  purpose  for  a  time  without  bloodshed. 
But  this  quiet  did  not  last  long.  At  a  council  early  in  June,  ISSl, 
Black  Hawk  told  Gen.  Gaines  that  he  would  not  leave  his  lands, 
and  was  not  afraid  of  the  U.  S.  soldiers.    He  was  deceived  m 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


supposing  that  his  reinforcements  from  the  other  tribes  would  h\ 
very  large,  whereas  Gen.  Gaines  was  more  accurately  informed. 
The  Illinois  volunteers,  seven  hundred  in  number,  arrived  at 
headquarters,  the  Indian  allies  of  the  chief  retreated  across  the 
river,  and  the  general  took  possession  of  their  villages.  A  treaty 
followed,  but  it  was  broken  in  less  than  a  year. 

Black  Hawk  reappeared  upon  the  Eock  Eiver  in  the  spring 
of  1832  ;  and  Major  Stillman  was  sent  towards  Sycamore  Creek 
with  two  hundred  and  seventy  men.  Black  Hawk's  flag  of  truce 
was  disregarded,  its  three  bearers  treated  as  prisoners,  and  the 
party  sent  to  inquire  after  them  pursued,  two  being  killed. 
Major  Stillman  determined  to  lose  no  time,  and  moved  forward 
with  more  haste  than  order  upon  the  Indian  encampment.  Here 
there  were  but  forty  warriors,  the  others  being  on  a  hunting  ex- 
pedition, but  Black  Hawk  had  already  heard  of  the  fate  of  his  five 
messengers,  and  they  were  prepared  for  an  attack.  Towards  the 
encampment  the  troops  marched,  anticipating  an  easy  victory ; 
confusion  and  precipitation  marked  their  advance ;  and  as  the 
tndians  rushed  upon  them  before  they  had  well  crossed  the  creek, 
they  retreated  as  they  had  advanced. 

Flushed  with  victory,  the  chief  sent  runners  to  the  Sacs  and 
Missouris,  who  reached  their  destination  twenty-four  hours  be- 
fore despatches  reached  the  whites;  and  the  good  news  aroused 
"the  Indians  to  new  spirit.  Their  butcheries  and  depredations 
'Spread  terror  and  panic  over  all  the  border.  They  cannot  be 
iblamed  too  severely  for  this,  for  until  the  courtesies  of  war  were 
80  deliberately  violated  by  the  whites,  they  had  displayed  a  pa- 
tience and  forbearance  seldom  found  on  either  side  in  the  annals 
of  Indian  warfare. 

Soon  after  Capt.  Harney  reported  to  Fort  Armstrong  and  was 
ordered  to  an  outpost  near  to  the  scene  of  Stillman's  defeat. 
At  the  fort  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Col.  Zachary  Taylor, 
and  of  a  young  militia  captain,  a  country  lawyer,  who  had  en- 
listed to  gain  the  political  capital  which  military  service  could 
give  him — Abraham  Lincoln.  To  the  tall  and  awkward  joker, 
and  the  equally  tall,  but  lithe  and  graceful  listener,  who  were  so 
often  companions,  the  soldiers  in  good-natured  irony  gave  the 
nick-name  of  the  two  ponies/'  Capt.  Harney  was  here  fre- 
quently sent  out  to  reconnoiter,  as  the  volunteers,  very  much 
afraid  of  Black  Hawk  since  Stillman's  defeat,  could  not  b©  relied 
upon  for  such  duty. 


©ENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY.  279 

This  regiment  of  militia  was  therefore  mustered  ©ut^  aoad  a 
new  levy  made  ;  but  the  delay  proved  well-nigh  fatal  eme«©^. 
The  Indians  had  retreated,  the  trail  was  lost,  and  pursuit  mmt- 


BhAGK  HAWE. 

ed  a  hopeless  undertaki^ag.  In  a  council  of  war  that  was  hd^. 
Captain  Harney  said : 

The  Indians  have  but  en©  hiding  pla^o  iB  ikewh^U  eountry, 
•and  it  will  not  be  very  hard  to  find*  If  jrau  will  all®w  mO),  f-ea- 
eral;  I  will  take  fifty  men  amd  makj  a  reeonnaissan@eJ:f 


280 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


Such  a  force  would  be  too  small/'  replied  General  Atkinson, 
shaking  his  head  ;  "  the  party  would  be  in  too  great  danger  of 
being  cut  off.    Take  with  you  three  hundred  Pottawattomiee/' 

But  the  chief  of  the  Pottawattomies  refused  to  go. 
Black  Hawk  got  many  warriors,  he  jump  out  from  ambush 
and  kill  such  few  Indians  and  white  men.    Caj^tain  Harney  he 
big  fool  to  go  without  big  army.'' 

With  only  the  fifty  men,  and  a  few  friendly  Menominies,  he 
started,  only  to  be  deserted,  early  on  his  journey,  by  all  the  In- 
dians except  one,  with  whom  he  had  once  had  a  desperate  en- 
counter, overcoming  and  disarming  him. 

"Me  stay  with  Captain  Harney,''  said  this  whilom  antagonist, 
with  dignity  j  "  me  stay  and  die  with  him." 

But  Captain  Harney's  detachment  soon  returned  to  the  main 
tody  with  the  intelligence  that  the  Indians  were  retreating  in  a 
eertain  direction.  Gen«  Atkinson  at  once  ordered  a  forced  march, 
ilnd  it  was  not  long  before  the  Indians  were  found  in  a  strong  po- 
sition near  the  Wisconsin.  Thence  they  continued  their  retreat 
towards  the  Mississippi,  where  they  were  again  overtaken,  not, 
however,  to  again  escape  without  giving  battle.  Impetuously 
the  American  troops  charged  upon  them,  as  the  lofty  courage  of 
their  leader  urged  them  to  deeds  of  desperate  valor  by  his  words 
and  example. 

**For  how  can  man  die  better 
Than  when  facing  fearful  odds 
For  the  ashes  of  his  fathers, 
And  the  temples  of  his  gods  ?  " 

So  thought  Black  Hawk,  as  with  total  disregard  of  danger  he 
cheered  the  sinking  hearts  of  his  warriors,  driven  from  hill  to 
hill,  and  making  one  last  desperate  stand  on  the  river  bank  to 
defend  themselves  or  die.  Here  the  troops  made  a  furious  onset, 
and  drove  those  who  survived  the  attack  into  the  river.  Black 
Hawk  fled  up  the  river  and  concealed  himself  in  the  woods, 
where,  two  days  later,  he  was  captured  by  the  Sioux  and  deliv- 
ered to  the  whites. 

For  several  years  after  this  battle  of  Bad  Ax,  which  was  the 
close  of  the  Black  Hawk  war,  we  find  no  dangers  overcome  by 
our  hero.  The  succeeding,  year  (1833)  is  a  memorable  one  in  his 
life,  marked,  as  it  is,  by  his  marriage  to  Miss  Mullanphy,  of  St. 
Louis;  and  several  promotions  advance  him  to  the  rank  of  lieu- 
tenant-colonel of  the  Second  Dragoons,  recently  organised. 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


281 


The  long  contest  with  the  Florida  Indians  had  begun.  Here, 
in  the  dense  forests  and  impenetrable  swamps,  lurked  the  Semi- 
noles,  the  runaways^'  from  all  tribes.  Dwelling  with  these 
were  fugitive  negro  slaves,  their  usual  good  nature  and  servility 
to  the  white  man  transformed,  by  the  oppression  of  brutal  mas- 
ters, into  the  fiercest  antipathy  to  the  whole  race.  These  were 
the  tribes  with  whom  Jackson  had  fought  in  1813 ;  these  were 
the  tribes  that  in  1835  had  fallen  upon  Major  Dade^s  detachment, 
as  with  all  the  precautions  which  even  Indian  warfare  required, 
he  marched  to  punish  the  savages  who  had  committed  such  fre- 
quent outrages ;  only  two  men  survived  to  tell  the  tale  of  a  dis- 
aster unparalleled  for  forty  years.  . 

Here,  in  February,  1837,  Col.  Harney  joined  his  regiment, 
reporting  to  Camp  Monroe,  then  under  the  command  of  Col.  Fan- 
ning. A  comparison  of  commissions  showed  that  Col.  Harney 
was  the  senior  officer,  and  therefore  entitled  to  the  honor ;  but 
in  consideration  of  Col.  Fannmg's  age,  he  waived  his  right. 
Having  already  seen  service  in  Indian  warfare.  Col.  Harney 
fully  understood  the  value  of  constant  vigilance.  Unwilling  to 
trust  entirely  to  his  subordinates,  he  made  a  reconnoissance  in 
person,  and  discovered  unmistakable  signs  that  Indians  were 
lurking  in  the  neighborhood.  Returning  to  camp,  he  advised 
Fanning  that,  as  they  would  probably  be  attacked  during  the 
night,  it  would  be  well  to  throw  up  breastworks,  which  would 
give  the  raw  recruits  confidence,  and  prevent  their  becoming 
panic-stricken  at  the  first  fire.  His  suggestions  were  adopted, 
hasty  fortifications  made,  and  pickets  posted  in  the  direction  from 
Isrhich  the  Indians  would  probably  come,  with  strict  orders  to 
give  the  alarm  immediately.  The  troops  lay  ready  during  the 
whole  night,  and  early  in  the  morning  the  alarm  gun  was  heard 
and  the  pickets  ran  in.  The  men,  whom  the  Indians  had  ex- 
pected to  surprise,  were  in  readiness,  and  sprang  to  the  breast- 
works. A  sharp  contest  ensued.  At  first  the  recruits  fired 
almost  aimlessly,  but  the  boldness  and  vigor  of  Col.  Harney  soon 
inspired  his  men  with  that  confidence  necessary  to  a  steady  and 
effective  fire,  and  after  three  houiV  fighting,  the  Indians  retreat- 
ed. Here  and  there  on  the  field  about  the  oamp  they  found  belts 
covered  with  blood,  shot-pouches  and  scalping  knives;  but  the 
savages  had  dragged  away  the  bodies  of  their  fallen  comrades. 

The  name  of  the  camp  was  now  changed  to  Fort  Mellon,  in 
memory  of  a  gallant  officer  who  had  fallen  in  the  fight,  and  Col. 


28S  GENERAL  WII/LIAM  S.  HARNBT. 

BCarney  was  left  in  command.    All  his  efforts  were  direoted  io^ 

wards  the  successful  prosecution  of  the  war  with  as  little  loss  as 
possible.  To  secure  this  much-desired  result,  the  troops  were 
kept  in  suek  constant  action  that  hardly  a  single  depredation  wifes 


ftllow^d  to  be  oommitte'd  on  the  inhabits. oi  the  eountey,  nMlg 
BMlk  of  corn  was  allowed  to  grow  anywhere  but  oh  the  farms  #f 
<Jae  citizens.  Unable  to  plant  any  corn  in  the  swamps,  whea^d 
M  e»my  l^^t  famine  ooulddxive  t^em^  manj  of  the  ohiets  volw^ 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEl 


283 


tarily  surrendered  themselves  j  among  them  was  Osceola,  the 
moving  spirit  of  the  war. 

The  chief,  like  all  the  Indian  leaders,  had  ample  cause  for  in- 
citing his  people  to  war  against  the  whites.  The  stern  Puritans 
of  the  north  and  the  chivalry  of  the  south  united  in  a  treatment  of 
the  native  lords  of  the  soil  that  was  only  less  bad  than  the  brutal- 
ities of  the  Spaniard.  Prance  was  the  only  country  whose  set- 
tlements in  the  New  World  were  not  founded  on  oppression  and 
injustice,  and  the  French  colonists  were  seldom,  if  ever,  molest- 
ed by  the  Indians.  Osceola,  the  son  of  an  English  trader  and 
a  Seminole  chiefs  daughter,  had  married  the  daughter  of  another 
chief  by  an  escaped  slave-woman.  The  mother's  owner  claimed 
and  seized  the  daughter  as  his  slave,  and  the  outraged  husband 
threatened  revenge.  Imprisonment  for  his  threats  only  added 
fuel  to  the  flames,  and  on  his  release  the  war  was  opened  by  the 
murder  of  Gen.  Thompson  and  four  others,  and  the  massacre  of 
Major  Dade  and  his  party. 

A  treaty  was  made,  and  according  to  its  terms,  the  Indians 
prepared  to  remove  to  the  reservation  assigned  to  them.  The 
frightened  citizens  returned  to  their  homes,  the  recaptured  slaves 
were  restored  to  their  owners,  and  it  seemed  that  prosperity  was 
about  to  succeed  to  the  horrors  of  war.  But  as  the  Indians  gath- 
ered at  Fort  Brooke,  ready  to  embark,  a  spirit  of  home-sickness, 
a  wild  and  uncontrollable  longing  for  the  moss-covered  oaks  and 
evergreens  of  the  forest,  seized  upon  them,  and  they  fled  away 
from  the  fort  of  the  white  man.  Preparations  were  immediately 
made  for  recommencing  the  war;  fortunately  the  time  thus  con- 
sumed was  the  sickly  summer  season,  when  any  campaign  would 
have  resulted  in  a  great  deal  of  sickness  among  the  men. 

Osceola  had  not  only  broken  the  treaty  himself,  but  had  in- 
duced other  tribes  to  do  so.  At  a  council,  Osceola  drew  his  knife 
and  drove  it  into  the  table,  saying,  The  only  trec^ty  I  will  ex- 
ecute is  with  this.^^  Gen.  Jessup  considered  himself  authorized^ 
therefore,  to  seize  as  prisoners  of  war  the  chiefs  who  had  met  for 
conference  with  him  under  a  flag  of  truce;  a  violation  of  all  th« 
established  courtesies  of  war.  There  was  but  a  handful  of  In- 
dians remaining  in  Florida,  their  negro  allies  having  been  re-' 
claimed,  and  many  of  their  bravest  warriors  killed  in  the  previ- 
ous campaign;  they  were  surrounded  by  a  complete  cordon  of 
military  posts,  and  confronted  by  aa  enemy  bent  on  their  ©xter* 
mination.  .   


284 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEl 


The  aim  of  Gen.  J essup  was  to  completely  surroiind  the  Indians, 
and  close  the  circle  gradually.  To  the  point  of  danger  in  this 
line,  because  the  one  where  the  Seminoles  were  most  likely  to 
attempt  to  break  through,  Col.  Harney  was  assigned;  and  it  was 
only  by  the  negligence  of  other  officers  that  a  few  escaped  at 
other  points.  Active  hostilities  began  early  in  January,  1838, 
with  a  sharp  and  active  engagement  in  which  Gen.  Nelson  com' 

manded  the  whites. 
Later,  a  naval  officer 
was  so  severely  de- 
feated, that  it  was  all 
his  men  could  do  to 
regain  their  boats. 
Gen.  Jessup  with  a 
stronger  force  moved 
upon  them  at  the  same 
point,  but  Gen.  Bustis, 
who  was  in  immediate 
command,  had  so  dis- 
posed his  forces  that 
the  dragoons  unde* 
Col.  Harney  could  ren* 
der  no  effective  service 
to  the  others,  and  at 
the  first  attack  the 
Americans  were  repul- 
sed by  a  murderous 
fire.  Col.  Harney  had 
in  the  meantime  pene- 
trated to  the  flank  and 
A  TREATY  OF  WAR.  p^^^    ^j^c  cncmy,  Gcu. 

Jes«up  took  command  and  rallied  his  men,  and  the  combined 
attack  proved  more  successful.    Col.  Harney's  request  that  he 
might  be  allowed  to  pursue  them,  was  granted,  but  a  severe 
aiiastorm  caused  the  commander  to  withdraw  the  permission. 

S^at  the  next  day  with  two  companies  to  follow  the  Indians, 
Col.  Harney  found  their  camp  abandoned;  they  had  fled  to  the 
everglades,  inaoeessible  to  the  soldiery.  Beturning  with  this  in- 
formation, he  urged  upon  the  commander  the  desirability  of  send- 
ing for  the  Indians,  as  they  would  probably  desire  to  treat  now, 
ftftar  the  punishment  that  bad  been  inflicted.    This  advice  eost 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


28^ 


Worthy  of  consideration,  was  adopted  by  the  general,  who  sen* 
a  messenger  to  the  Indians,  offering  terms  of  peace.  Many 
of  the  officers  urged  upon  Gen.  Jessup  the  necessity  of  termina- 
ting the  war  by  allowing  the  Seminoles  to  retain  a  part  of  the 
country ;  but  he  would  only  offer  such  terms  on  condition  of  the 
approval  of  the  government.  Many  of  the  Indian  chiefs  sur- 
rendered, with  followers  to  the  number  of  two  thousand,  and 
again  the  war  seemed  to  be  at  an  end. 

The  government  refused  to  ratify  this  arrangement,  and  the 
subsequent  action  of  Gen.  Jessup  looked  to  the  untutored  savages 
very  much  like  a  breach  of  faith.  He  had  violated  the  security 
of  a  flag  of  truce,  and  Osceola  had  died  in  pris^on;  he  had  de- 
coyed them  from  their  fastnesses,  only  to  hold  them  as  captives. 
Having  thus  lost  all  confidence  in  the  whites,  the  Semiiaoles, 
always  reckless  of  danger  for  themselves  when  itwaiS  possible  te 
inflict  injury  upon  their  enemies,  harried  and  burned  and  slew 
whenever  the  presence  of  soldiery  did  not  prevent. 

Colonel  Harney,  with  his  dismounted  dragoons,  was  sentaffcei 
Sam  Jones,  one  of  the  principal  chiefs,  and  pursued  him  into  hii^ 
hunting  grounds  by  forced  marches  made  at  night.  He  succeed- 
ed in  surprising  the  Indians,  and  put  them  to  rout,  but  they  fled 
into  the  swamps,  whither  the  troops  could  not  follow  them.  As 
they  pursued  the  flying  savages,  one  of  the  soldiers  shot  a  squaw, 
mistaking  her,  in  the  confusion,  for  a  warrior.  Greatly  distressed 
at  this  injury  inflicted  upon  a  woman,  they  did  everything  in 
their  power  to  relieve  her.  At  a  loss  what  to  do  with  her,  CoL 
Harney  made  the  suggestion  that,  if  they  left  her,  her  friends 
would  come  after  her  in  the  night.  It  was  proposed  to  lie  in  wait 
near  by,  and  capture  those  who  should  come,  but  Col.  Harney 
declared  that  those  who  came  on  such  a  mission  of  humanity 
should  have  safe  conduct.  The  chief  and  the  woman^s  husband 
came  and  visited  her  that  night,  taking  her  away  the  next,  but 
though  Sam  Jones  was  such  a  tempting  prize,  Col.  Harney  re- 
strained his  men  from  molesting  them.  The  woman  recovered, 
and  when  several  months  afterward  the  tribe  was  met  by  Col. 
Harney  and  his  command  on  terms  of  peace,  she  displayed  con- 
siderable gratitude  towards  those  who  had  acted  in  a  manner 
better  agreeing  with  their  professed  Christianity  than  the  whites 
generally  used  towards  the  savages. 

Gen.  Jessup'was  soon  after  recalled  from  Florida  and  sent  to 
the  Cherokee  country  j  Gen.  Macomb,  the  eommander-im-chie:^ 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


repairing  in  person  to  the  seat  of  war.  Arriving  in  Florida,  and 
establishing  his  headquarters  on  Black  Creek,  he  immediately 
sent  for  Col.  Harney.  The  plans  which  that  officer  had  suggested, 
and  upon  which  Gen.  Jessup  had  acted,  were  laid  before  him, 
and  Col.  Harney  marked  out  the  reservation  which  would  con- 
tent the  Indians,  who  were  committing  all  sorts  of  depredations 
and  murders. 

"  A  settlement  can  be  made  with  them,  if  I  can  only  be  assured 
that  the  government  will  keep  faith ;  but  they  have  been  de- 
ceived, and  are  suspicious  of  the  promises  of  the  "War  Depart- 
ment. I  cannot  undertake  to  deceive  them  myself,  and  unless  I 
can  be  assured  that  the  treaty,  when  made,  will  be  observed  by 
our  own  people,  I  can  do  nothing.'' 

Gen.  Macomb  had  instructions  to  pacify  the  Indians,  and  to 
make  arrangements  for  them  to  remain  in  the  country.  Satisfied 
at  this.  Col.  Harney's  influence  got  a  number  of  chiefs  together, 
who  were  induced  by  the  respect  in  which  they  held  him,  to 
make  an  amicable  arrangement.  But  the  depredations  continued. 
Some  of  the  chiefs  repudiated  this  treaty,  some  never  assented 
to  it.  The  people  of  Florida  were  not  satisfied  with  it,  and  while 
the  assurance  of  the  Secretary  of  War  was  that  it  was  only  a  tem- 
porary measure,  calculated  to  quiet  their  remonstrances,  it  only 
inflamed  the  passions  of  the  Seminoles.  Col.  Harney  was  thus 
shown  to  be  as  unreliable  as  any  of  the  others,  and  his  reputa* 
tion  for  truth  and  honor  existed  no  more  among  the  deceived 
and  betrayed  Indians  of  Florida. 

As  soon  as  the  treaty  had  been  made.  Gen.  Macomb  directed 
Col.  Harney  to  select  a  suitable  site  for  a  trading-house,  to  be 
built  in  the  reservation.  Selecting  a  point  on  the  Coloosahatchie 
Eiver,  fifteen  miles  above  the  mouth,  he  left  there  thirty  dis- 
mounted dragoons,  while  he  went  on  to  Gen.  Taylor's  headquar- 
ters on  Tampa  Bay.  Gen.  Macomb  had  verbally  authorized  him 
to  call  upon  this  officer  for  two  companies  to  protect  the  house, 
but  Gen.  Taylor  refused  to  let  him  have  any  troops.  Calling  at 
the  site  on  the  Coloosahatchie  as  he  returned,  he  found  every- 
thing progressing  admirably,  the  Indians  appearing  perfectly 
contented.  But  while  he  was  on  the  way  from  Tampa,  the  Sec- 
retary's letter  had  arrived,  saying  that  the  treaty  was  only  tem- 
porary. In  some  mysterious  way,  the  Indians  had  heard  of  it, 
and  swift  runners  spread  the  news  among  all  the  tribes  before  it 
had  been  sent  to  the  whites* 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY,  287 

It  was  then,  without  arousing  any  suspicion  in  the  Mind  ot  the 
officer,  that  the  afterwards  famous  chief  Billy  BowJegs  came 
ahoard  the  boat,  and  told  bim  that  the  chiefs  wished  go  see  hin7v 
before  he  left.  'Never  guessing  what  news  had  come  from  Wash- 
ington, he  concluded  to  land,  and  spend  the  night  on  shore  in 
his  tent.  The  next  day  he  went  hunting,  returning  about  nine 
o'clock,  tired  out.  Taking  off  his  coat  and  boots,  he  lay  down, 
intending  to  rest  a  little  and  then  get  up  to  see  how  the  sergeant 
in  command  had  posted  his  sentinels.  But  he  fell  asleep,  to  be 
awakened  at  daylight  by  the  firing  of  guns,  the  yelling  of  In- 
dians, and  shouts  of,  Run  to  the  water  in  the  familiar  voices 
of  his  own  men. 

Seeing  that  his  men,  standing  up  to  their  necks  in  the  water, 
were  wholly  unarmed,  he  knew  that  he  could  not  help  them,  and 
determined  to  save  himself.  Running  down  the  river  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  every  thought  bent  to  the  planning  of  an  escape, 
he  walked  into  the  river  a  few  paces,  then  backward  up  the 
bank,  so  as  to  make  the  Indians  think  that  two  men  had  been 
drowned  at  that  point. 

In  the  mean  time  the  men  in  the  river  had  been  induced  to  sur. 
render,  and  were  massacred  as  soon  as  they  left  the  water,  only 
a  small  party  escaping  in  a  trading  boat.  They  then  proceeded 
to  the  colonel's  tent,  and  their  yell  of  disappointment  rang  in  hia 
ears  as  he  plunged  into  the  brush.  Following  his  trail,  they 
found  the  point  where  he  had  walked  into  the  water,  and  con^ 
eluding  that  he  and  some  companion  had  preferred  drowning  to 
failing  into  their  hands,  gave  up  the  search.  He  had  not  proceed 
ed  far  when  a  man  was  seen  coming  towards  him,  and,  thinking 
it  was  an  Indian,  he  drew  his  pocket-knife,  the  only  weapon  he 
had,  and  prepared  for  defense  3  but  the  supposed  Indian  was  one 
of  his  own  dragoons  who  had  watched  him  from  the  river,  and 
had  not  surrendered  with  his  comrades. 

Over  the  mangrove  roots  and  sour-grass  that  lacerated  his  un- 
protected feet,  until  the  dragoon,  Britton,  gave  him  his  shoes,  un- 
der the  burning,  vertical  rays  of  a  July  sun  in  Florida,  blacking 
their  faces  with  the  charred  wood  left  by  camp-fires  which  they 
passed,  so  that  they  might  be  better  disguised,  they  strained 
every  nerve  to  get  to  a  certain  point  fifteen  miles  away.  "Now  and 
then  their  route  led  them  to  the  river  bank.  The  third  time  that 
they  approached  it,  Britton  heard  a  voice  on  the  river.  Sending 
the  dragoon  down  the  stref^Jxi.  Cel.  H.^ney  ascended  it,  to  look 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


for  the  Indians.    Brition  soon  reported  that  they  were  coming, 
he  had  seen  a  canoe  with  some  one  in  it-@f  course,  Seminoles' 
"Britton,  can  you  fight?" 


BILLY  BOWLEGS. 


''1  will  die  with  you,  Colonel." 
•  "There  seem  to  be  two  Indians.    Do  not  let  one  get  behind 
me  while  I  am  fighting  with  the  other.   I  can  soon  overconA? 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


289 


and  kill  one,  and  then  will  be  ready  for  the  second.  Where  ar# 
tkey  V 

Under  that  wild  ig-tree/' 

"I  will  go  now.   Be  sure  and  keep  a  sharp  look-®ut." 

Arriving  at  the  point  indicated,  with  so  stealthy  a  step  as  not 
to  alarm  the  children  of  the  forest,  he  planted  one  foot  firmly 
mpon  the  ground,  the  other  upon  the  shell  bank,  ready  to  leap 
upon  them.  Raising  himself,  he  saw  the  canoe— his  own,  con- 
taining only  a  harpoon  and  the  paddles.  Calling  Britton  to  him 
by  a  yell  of  triumph,  and  instructing  him  in  paddling  the  canoe, 
they  soon  overtook  those  of  his  men  who  had  escaped  in  the  boat. 
To  them  he  announced  his  intention  of  going  back  to  the  camp, 
to  see  what  had  become  of  his  force,  and  they  volunteered  to  ae* 
company  him.  With  seven  men,  he  returned  that  night  to  as- 
tain  who  had  been  the  killed.  Leaving  two  men  in  the 
boat,  with  five  men  and  two  guns  he  proceeded  to  the  camp,  where 
thev  looked  into  the  faces  of  their  comrades,  ghastly  with  death 
in  the  light  of  the  moon.  Counting  the  dead,  they  found  all  there 
but  five,  and  shouted  to  call  these  to  them.  They  afterwards  learm* 
ed  that  two  heard  the  shouts,  but  thought  it  merely  an  Indian  rus^ 
to  draw  them  from  their  hiding  places.  Col.  Harney,  knowin| 
that  the  Indians  had  taken  two  l^arrels  of  whiskey  in  the  stores, 
wished  to  avenge  his  murdered  men,  sure  that  a  surprise  wouW 
result  in  victory  5  but  his  men  were  unwilling  to  take  a  new  risk^ 
and  the  little  party  returned  to  headquarters. 

Colonel  Harney  was  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  reason  f©r  this  ati 
tack,  only  learning  of  the  Secretary's  letter  when  he  arrived  at 
Florida  Bay.  The  news  of  the  attack  and  massacre  spread  rap- 
idly over  Florida,  and  produced  the  most  profound  sensation, 
leading  to  hostilities  of  the  bloodiest  kind.  Yet  the  Secretary, 
whose  faithlessness  was  the  cause  of  this,  was  retained  in  the 
cabinet,  his  conduct  unquestioned.  By  his  orders,  blood-hounds 
were  imported  to  hunt  down  the  Indians.  Less  cruel  than  th© 
men  who  set  them  on,  "they  were  found  to  be  perfectly  useless.*' 

With  the  campaign  between  November,  1839,  and  May,  1840, 
we  have  nothing  to  do,  as  Col.  Harney  was  on  sick  leave  in  Cuba, 
being  threatened  with  consumption.  Little  of  importance  oc- 
curred between  the  time  of  the  massacre  of  the  Coloosahatchie 
(July,  1839)  and  the  last  month  of  the  succeeding  year;  a  series 
of  scenes  of  petty  bloodshed  on  both  sides  filled  up  the  measui?© 
of  the  days. 


290 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNET* 


In  Detember,  1840,  Col.  Harney  was  ordered  to  proceed  to  the 

everglades  and  attack  the  Spanish  Indians,  of  whom  Chaikika 
was  the  chief.  Here,  in  a  vast  expanse  of  water  varying  in  depth 
from  one  to  five  feet,  and  covered  with  an  almost  impenetrable 
saw-grass,  except  for  the  channels  which  extended  in  every  direc- 
tion, dotted  with  innumerable  islands,  it  was  supposed  that  many 
of  the  Indians  had  their  headquarters.  This  suspicion  had  been 
confirmed  by  the  account  of  a  negro  man  named  John,  who  had 
been  captured  by  them  in  1835,  and  had  but  recently  escaped. 
CoL  Harney,  with  a  force  of  ninety  men  in  boats,  and  John  as  a 


IN  THE  EVERGLADES. 

guide,  penetrated  into  the  heart  of  this  wilderness.  John  led 
them  directly  to  the  island  where  the  Indians  were  encamped  — 
the  band  of  Chaikika,  who  had  been  the  chief  commanding  the 
party  that  massacred  the  dragoons  at  Coloosahatchie. 

The  chief  was  chopping  wood  at  a  short  distance  from  his  people 
when  the  soldiers  approached.  Discovering  the  presence  of  thvj 
enemy  he  dropped  his  axe  and  ran  for  the  high  grass.  Two  or 
three  soldiers  started  in  pursuit,  but  only  one  proved  able  to  keep 
up  with  him.  This  was  Hall,  the  same  man  who  had  shot  the 
squaw  hj  mistake.  Finding  that  escape  was  hopeless,  and  being 


GENEKAL  WILLIAM  8.  HARNEY. 


29) 


anarmed,  he  turned,  and  threw  up  his  arms  in  token  of  snrren 
der.  The  mercy  he  had  dealt  to  those  who  surrendered  at  Co- 
loosahatchie  was  shown  to  him.  Hall  sent  a  bullet  into  his  brain, 
and  he  fell  lifeless  into  the  water.  Two  thousand  dollars'  worth 
of  stolen  goods  were  identified,  and  thirteen  revolvers  belonging 
to  Harney's  massacred  dragoons.  Nine  of  the  warriors  were 
hanged,  the  tenth  reserved  for  use  in  the  future  as  a  guide. 

This  was  virtually  the  end  of  the  Seminole  war,  protracted 
dirough  eight  years,  at  the  cost  of  millions  of  dollars  and  many 
lives.  This  contest  baffled  the  military  skill  of  the  ablest  gener- 
als. Col.  Harney's  services  were,  beyond  question,  more  efficient 
than  those  of  any  other  officer  in  the  field.  The  Indians  always 
had  most  respect  and  esteem  for  the  man  who  was  most  successful 
in  contending  with  them,  and  Col.  Harney  was  the  only  man 
upon  whose  word  they  would  rely. 

For  a  period  of  several  years  we  take  leave  of  him.  During 
this  time  Texas,  an  independent  republic,  had  laid  aside  her  sov- 
ereign loneliness  at  the  invitation  of  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  and  become  one  of  the  many.  Mexico  had  never  admit 
ted  the  independence  of  Texas  ;  the  action  of  the  United  States 
was,  therefore,  regarded  as  a  breach  of  the  treaty  between  the 
two  nations,  and  the  Mexican  war  ensued. 

Col.  Harney  was  stationed  at  San  Antonio  with  six  regiments 
of  dragoons,  when,  in  the  winter  of  1845-6,  he  leg,rned  that  the 
Mexicans  were  assembling  on  the  Eio  Grande,  west  of  San  An. 
tonio.  He  determined  to  push  forward,  to  reconnoiter  and  to 
protect  the  frontier,  and  collected  a  force  of  seven  hundred  men, 
His  officers  suggested  that  they  had  no  cannon,  and  proposed 
sending  to  Victoria  for  two  pieces ;  but  this  would  cause  too 
much  loss  of  time. 

"Have  the  Mexicans  any  artillery?"  inquired  Col.  Harney. 

"  They  have  field-pioces  and  ordnance  of  excellent  character, 
sir,''  replied  an  officer  readily,  glad  to  break  the  argument  by 
such  facts. 

"  Well,  then,  we  will  go  and  take  them ;  they  will  suit  me  ex- 
actly." 

Advancing  to  within  fifteen  miles  of  the  Eio  Grande,  a  recon 
noissance  in  person  revealed  that  the  Mexican  troops  had  gone, 
crossing  the  river,  he  occupied  Presidio,  and  wished  to  move 
upon  Monterey,  but  the  unanimous  opposition  of  his  officers 
forced  him  to  abandon  this  plan.    Or\  his  way  back  to  San  An- 


292 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


tonio,  he  was  met  by  two  orders  from  Gen.  Wool,  then  in  com- 
mand ;  the  first,  desiring  him  to  return  to  San  Antonio  immedi- 
ately; the  second,  placing  him  under  arrest,  and  giving  his  com- 
mand to  another  officer.  Gen.  Wool  explained  that  the  latter 
order  had  been  issued  because  the  people  of  San  Antonio  had 
assured  him  that  Colonel  Harney  would  not  obey  the  first. 

Promoted  to  the  full  rank  of  colonel  the  last  of  June,  1846,  he 
and  Brig.-Gen.  Shields,  with  a.guard  of  only  fifteen  men,  set  out 
to  report  to  Gen.  Taylor  at  Matamoras,  where  the  Mexicans  had 
met  with  a  signal  defeat  in  May  at  the  hands  of  that  officer^  The 
perils  and  difficulties  of  the  journey  cannot  be  exaggerated: 
through  a  country  full  of  enemies,  marching  all  one  day  without 
water,  the  escort  was  so  scanty  that  it  was  a  most  hazardous  un- 
dertaking. They  reached  Monterey  only  to  find  Col.  Harney 
placed  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Wool,  who  had  exposed  him 
to  the  indignity  of  an  arrest  in  San  Antonio. 

Sent  with  his  dragoons  to  the  front.  Col.  Harney  made  a  re- 
connoissance,  and  failing  to  find  the  enemy,  returned  to  the  post 
assigned.  Here,  as  he  and  his  officers  were  indulging  in  festiv 
ities  after  their  tiresome  day,  a  courier  arrived  with  a  despatcl 
from  Gen.  Wool,  ordering  his  immediate  return,  as  the  enemj 
was  advancing.  Reading  the  despatch  to  his  officers,  and  know 
ing  the  general  had  received  false  information,  he  bivouacked  foy 
the  night,  and  on  the  following  day,  falling  back  upon  the  maij3 
body,  reported  to  Gen.  Wool.  In  reply  to  that  officer's  reproact.- 
es  for  his  tardiness  in  obeying  orders,  he  said : 

I  knew  that  you  had  received  false  information,  sir.  If  yo  a 
had  inquired  of  me,  I  could  have  told  you,  from  my  own  knoTV- 
ledge,  that  there  was  no  enemy.^' 

He  was  soon  afterward  transferred  to  Gen.  Taylor's  command. 
Gen.  Scott's  old  jealousy  of  Gen.  Jackson  showed  itself  in  an  at- 
tempt to  deprive  Col.  Harney  of  his  command,  he  having  been 
an  especial  protege  of  Old  Hickory/^  but  foiled  in  this,  he 
could  not  but  admit  that  it  was  a  gallant  soldier  and  a  good  offi- 
cer that  he  would  have  injured.  His  conduct  at  Madellin  and  the 
more  important  Cerro  Gordo  won  for  him  the  commendation  of 
Scott,  and  the  rank  of  Brevet  Brigadier-General.  Present  at  the 
taking  of  Mexico,  and  performing  valuable  services  during  the 
entire  war,  when  peace  was  at  last  declared  he  was  stationed  with 
his  regiment  at  San  Antonio.  He  remained  in  Texas,  with  occa- 
sional short  leaves  of  absence,  until  July,  1854,  when  a  leave  grant- 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNE-fr. 


293 


ed  for  two  years  permitted  him  to  visit  his  family,  who  had  lived 
^or  some  years  in  Europe,  while  the  husband  and  father  nad  been 
serving  his  country  in  its  wars. 

Although  our  right  to  annex  Texas  had  been  vindicated,  the 
country  was  not  to  be  left  in  peace.  The  disturbing  elemxcnt  was 
the  same  that  kept  the  earliest  settlers  on  the  Atlantic  coast  al- 
ways prepared  for  a  combat,  i;hat  has  made  itself  a  name  of  ter- 
ror to  the  far  western  prairies — the  Indians.  As  usual,  the  cause 
of  this  war  was  the  injustice  and  oppression  of  the  white  man, 
revenged  by  the  cruelty  of  the  red  man. 

A  party  of  emigrants  to  Califc  rnia,  passing  the  Big  Platte, 
about  thirty  miles  below  Fort  La  ;amie,  left  a  cow,  that  had  giv- 
en out,  in  charge  of  the  Bois  Brules.  Buffaloes  were  not  to  be 
found  by  the  hunters,  and  the  agents  of  the  U.  S.  Government 
had  failed  to  furnish  them  with  the  usual  supplies;  but  they  had 
Xio  thought  of  violating  that  trust,  even  to  prev  mtthe  starvation 
of  the  tribe.  Even  when  a  visit 
from  a  neighboring  chief  awak- 
ened all  their  sense  of  hospital- 
ity, they  explained  to  him  that 
their  own  meager  rations  would 
not  permit  a  great  feast  of  wel- 
come. The  Ogallala  chief  said 
lohat  he  had  seen  a  white  buffalo 
(a  cow)  on  the  prairies,  but  ap- 
peared satisfied  on  learning  the 
facts  of  the  case.  He  and  his  war- 
riors would  go  out  on  a  hunt, 

said  the  visitor;  and  strangely  gen.  wInfield  s.  scott. 

enough,  the  game  that  they  brought  in  was  the  carcass  of  the 
white  buffalo. 

The  owner  of  the  cow  sent  in  a  bill  for  it  to  Port  Laramie,  and 
received  payment  from  the  officer  in  command  ;  who  immediate- 
ly despatched  a  force  of  thirty  men,  under  the  command  of  a 
lieutenant,  to  demand  the  warrior  who  had  killed  the  cow. 
Drunk  when  they  arrived  at  the  village,  it  is  hardly  probable 
that  this  demand  was  made  in  a  manner  calculated  to  ensure  its 
admission  by  the  Indians. 

The  Ogallala  chief  is  in  the  village  of  the  Bois  Brules,  and 
they  cannot  give  him  up  to  his  enemies.  But  he  has  behaved 
Dadly,  and  you  can  take  him  ;  that  is  his  lodge/' 


^94 


aJllNERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 


"No,  you  must  bring  him  here/'  insisted  the  officer,  with 
drunken  dignity. 

"  The  Indian  does  not  give  up  the  friend  who  is  in  his  lodge, 
and  Black  Beaver's  people  would  kill  him  if  he  did  so/' 

But  the  hospitality  of  the  desert  met  with  no  recognition  here, 
and  the  order  was  given  to  fire.  Black  Beaver  was  killed,  bul 
his  death  was  speedily  avenged  by  that  of  the  lieutenant,  his 
interpreter,  and  all  the  detachment  but  one  man;  who,  found* 
wounded,  was  taken  into  the  lodge  of  a  warrior  and  nursed  bacbl 
to  health.  Such  was  the  beginning  of  the  war  in  which  the  whole 
Sioux  tribe  took  up  the  quarrel  of  their  kinsmen,  the  Bois  Brules. 

In  such  a  state  of  aifairs,  ihi  most  distinguished  Indian  fighter 
in  the  army  could  not  well  be  spared,  and  Gen.  Harney  was  re- 
called before  one  quarter  of  the  two  years  had  passed.  Leaving 
Paris  on  Christmas  Eve,  1854,  he  reported  in  Washington. 

"Gen.  Harnej  said  President  Pierce,  "you  have  done  so 
ooLUch  that  I  wil.  not  order  you,  but  I  do  wish  you  would  con- 
sent to  assume  the  command  and  whip  the  Indians  for  us.'' 

Proceeding  to  the  west,  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  Indian  coun- 
try he  received  a  message  from  the  Sioux  chief.  Little  Thunder, 
saying  that  he  would  either  shake  hands  with  him  or  fight.  But 
G-en.  Harney  had  already  reached  a  position  commanding  the 
Indian  village,  and  even  the  personal  pleading  of  the  chief  did 
aot  secure  peace  without  punishment  for  robbing  the  mails  and 
killing  emigrants. 

Seventy-two  savages  fell  in  the  attack  which  followed,  in 
which  only  four  white  men  were  killed.  Soon  forced  to  retreat, 
the  Indians  were  allowed  to  make  their  escape,  since  they  were 
encumbered  with  their  women  and  children. 

One  most  important  assistant  in  guarding  the  camp  from  attack 
was  Gen.  Harney's  veteran  charger,  Buncombe,  who  had  seen  | 
severe  service  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  who  now  learned  to  detect 
the  presence  of  a  wolf,  abuifalo  or  an  Indian  near  the  camp ;  giv- 
ing an  invariably  correct  alarm,  and  in  many  cases  saving  the 
lives  of  the  men.  He  could  distinguish  between  the  intruders, 
and  would  stamp  harder  and  oftener,  and  snort  more  loudly,  if 
it  were  an  Indian,  than  if  it  were  a  buffalo  or  a  wolf. 

The  decisive  victory  gained  over  Little  Thunder  awed  the 
Sioux  into  submission,  and  a  five  days'  conference  with  the  chiefs 
of  all  but  two  bands  resulted  in  a  treaty.  Chiefs  and  sub-chiefs 
were  recognized,  and  arranffements  made  for  the  government  of 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY, 


295 


the  tribe,  so  as  to  secure  the  blessings  of  peace  tc  both  the  Indians 
and  the  whites.  The  Sioux  stood  to  their  promises,  and  held  to 
the  obligations  that  the  treaty  imposed  upon  them,  even  after 
the  government  showed  that  it  had  no  intention  of  keeping 
faith  with  them. 

His  instructions  forbade  him  to  do  more,  although  the  bands 
not  represented  were  somewhat  turbulent,  and  challenged  him  to 
meet  them  on  the  war-path  ;  and  he  returned  to  St.  Louis.  The 
removal  of  the  remnant  of  the  Seminoles  still  lingering  in  the 
swamps  and  everglades  of  Florida  next  occupied  his  time,  and 
in  May,  1857,  he  was  o-rdered  to  Kansas,  where  a  delicate  and  im- 
portant duty  required  all  his  firmness  and  sagacity.  This  was  to 
keep  the  peace  which  the  politicians  seemed  determined  to  break 
—  a  strange  duty,  it  seems,  for  a  soldier,  occurring  under  a  com- 
bination of  circumstances  equally  strange.  But  his  services  in 
Kansas,  and  those  immediately  afterwards  in  Utah,  do  not  pre- 
sent points  of  special  interest  to  any  but  the  historians  of  those 
states. 

Ordered  to  Oregon  early  in  the  fall  of  1858,  he  procured  the 
appointment  of  Father  de  Smet  as  chaplain  to  his  force.  This 
eminent  Jesuit  had  been  a  missionary  among  the  Flat  Heads  and 
kindred  tribes  around  the  Columbia  and  its  branches,  and  not  only 
possessed  considerable  influence  over  them,  but  perhaps  knew 
the  country  and  disposition  of  the  tribes  better  than  any  one 
else ;  so  that  he  was  invaluable  to  this  expedition. 

The  California  Indians  had  been  hostile  for  some  time,  and 
there  had  been  several  skirmishes,  when  Gen.  Clarke,  then  in 
command,  invited  them  to  a  council.  Refusing  to  surrender  their 
privileges,  they  were  thus  addressed  by  Major  Key: 

The  great  war-chief,  General  Harney,  who  is  known  among 
all  the  tribes  for  his  success  among  them,  is  on  his  way  here ; 
and  if  you  do  not  accede  to  the  terms  which  we  propose,  he 
will  make  war  upon  you,  so  that  you  will  be  glad  to  accept  even 
harder  conditions.^^ 

When  Gen.  Harney  arrived  at  Fort  Vancouver,  he  found  that 
m^ny  of  the  tribes  had  sued  for  peace,  and  treaties  had  been  made 
with  them.  The  turbulent  Indians  had  fled  to  the  Flat  Heads, 
and  Gen.  Harney  concluded  to  demand  their  surrender.  In  many 
instances  they  were  promptl}^  given  up,  but  in  other  cases  there 
was  more  delay.  So  completely  had  the  Indians  been  pacified, 
r^hrough  the  good  offices  of  Father  de  Smet,  and  the  active  and 


296 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY 


efficient  measures  of  Gen.  Harney,  that  no  disturbances  followed. 
His  perfect  knowledge  of  Indian  character,  and  his  wisdom  in 
adapting  his  plan  of  action  to  the  enemy  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal,  secured  him  a  greater  degree  of  success  than  any  officer  as- 
signed to  duty  on  the  frontier.  His  one  rule  in  intercourse  with 
them,  never  broken,  was  to  keep  faith;  and  the  wisdom  of  this 
fWas  endorsed  by  the  experience  of  Father  de  Smet. 

He  was  recalled  from  Oregon  in  July,  1860,  and  ordered  to  St. 
Louis,  whence,  in  April,  1861,  he  proceeded  to  "Washington.  Mad^ 
the  first  prisoner  of  war,  and  strongly  urged  to  join  the  Confed-^ 
erate  Army  by  many  old  acquaintances,  his  journey  to  Washing- 
ton was  a  series  of  ovations  to  the  great  war-chief  of  the  West. 

On  his  return  to  St.  Louis,  again  invested  with  the  command 
here,  he  bent  every  energy  to  the  task  of  pacification;  believing 
thac  there  was  no  necessity  for  a  single  gun  to  be  fired  in  the 
state,  and  resolved  that  none  should  be  while  he  could  prevent 
it.  B^t  he  had  hardly  arrived  in  the  city  before  the  order  came 
depriving  him  of  his  command,  and  giving  him  leave  of  absence 
until  farther  orders.  The  further  orders  never  came,  and  his 
name  is  still  upon  the  retired  list.  The  pretext  for  this  action  was 
his  connection  with  those  who  leaned  towards  the  Confederate 
States,  but  no  evidence  exists  to  show  that,  while  he  remained 
in  command,  he  was  anything  but  a  faithful  servant  of  the  coun- 
try for  which  he  had  done  so  much.  Forty-two  years  he  had 
spent  in  active  service,  the  greater  part  of  the  time  being  on  the 
frontier,  among  the  Indians. 

Appointed  a  member  of  the  Indian  Peace  Commission  in  1865, 
he  visited  the  savages,  for  the  last  time,  on  the  waters  of  the  Platte 
and  the  Black  Hills  country.  It  is  a  touching  tribute  to  his  rep- 
utation among  the  Indians,  that  while  engaged  in  this  work,  an 
elderly  Indian  woman  came  up  to  him,  and  shaking  his  hand  earn- 
estly, said : 

You  were  a  friend  of  my  father.^' 
Who  her  father  was,  or  where  Gen.  Harney  had  known  him, 
could  not  be  ascertained;  but  that  is  unnecessary  to  the  beauty 
of  the  incident;  it  might  have  been  a  typical  Indian,  for  to  the 
fathers  of  many  of  the  present  generation  he  had  indeed  been  a 
friend. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


GLITEEAL  GEOEGE  A.  CUSTEE. 


'HEN  a  man  has  achieved  success  in  any  direction,  we  are 


VV  always  desirous  of  knowing  how  far  his  boyhood  and 
youth  gave  promise  of  the  future.  It  is  with  a  feeling  of  gratifica- 
tion that  we  learn  that  such  a  novelist  delighted  his  schoolmates 
hy  the  stories  he  related  to  them ;  that  such  a  historian  almost  de- 
s  troy  ed  his  sight  by  his  close  application ;  that  such  a  ruler  of  men 
so  governed  circumstances,  that  from  a  canal-boy  he  became  pres- 
ident;  that  such  a  general  gave  promise  of  his  future  excellence 
as  a  soldier  by  his  rank  at  "West  Point.  After  a  while,  however, 
the  story  becomes  monotonous,  and  it  is  with  equal  gratification 
that  we  turn  to  the  eminent  scholar  who,  in  boyhood,  was  es- 
teemed a  dunce,  to  the  successful  general  who  was  not  in  the  first 
fank  at  the  Military  Academy. 

Born  in  Ohio,  in  the  latter  part  of  1839,  George  Armstrong 
Duster's  early  life  was  like  that  of  many  an  American  boy,  born 
tind  raised  in  the  country.  At  school  in  the  winter,  rarely  fail- 
ing to  have  his  lessons  creditably  prepared  in  spite  of  the  mili- 
tary novel  often  opened  under  his  geography;  at  work  on  his 
father's  farm  in  the  summer;  accompanying  an  elder  sister,  re- 
cently married,  to  Michigan,  then  but  sparsely  settled;  full  of 
life  and  fun,  yet  never  quarrelsome;  of  the  gentlest  and  most 
lovable  disposition :  such  is  the  record  of  his  boyhood.  Early 
imbued  with  a  passion  for  a  soldier's  life,  he  was  not  yet  seven- 
teen when  he  determined  to  go  to  West  Point.  'No  influence 
aided  him  in  his  endeavors,  and  nothing  came  of  them  the  first 
time ;  but  a  personal  interview  with  the  congressman,  to  whom 
he  had  written,  resulted  in  his  appointment  the  following  year. 

The  discipline  at  the  Military  Academy  seems  to  outsiders  un- 
necessarily strict.  A  trifling  dereliction  from  duty  is  an  unpar- 
donable offense ;  a  failure  to  black  one's  boots  at  the  proper 
oxoment  necessitates  an  afternoon's  guard  duty ;  while  a  negleet 


298 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


of  lessons  for  a  visit  to  Benny  Havens'  cabin  is  no  worse — it  can 
not  be.  Saturday  afternoon  is  time  for  recreation,  but  the  poor 
delinquents  must  spend  it  walking  their  extras/'  For  offenses 
3iot  great,  but  making  up  in  number  what  they  lacked  in  enorm- 
ity, sixty -six  Saturdays  were  thus  spent  by  Cadet  Custer  during 
his  four  years'  course  ;  and  when  every  examination  was  passed 
and  only  the  order  from  Washington  was  needed  to  transform 
the  cadets  into  officers,  the  ranking  of  the  class  of  thirty-four 
showed  thirty-three  above  him.  My  career  as  a  cadet,"  said 
he,  as  a  soldier,  had  but  little  to  commend  it  the  study  of 
those  who  came  after  me,  unless  as  an  example  to  be  carefully 
avoided." 

A  single  instance  will  be  enough  to  show  the  character  of  his 
offenses  against  military  law.  It  was  in  1861,  after  the  examin- 
ations were  passed,  when  they  were  only  waiting  to  be  assigned 
each  to  the  particular  branch  of  the  service  for  which  he  was  best 
fitted,  that  Cadet  Custer  was  performing  the  duties  of  officer  of  the 
the  guard ;  an  honor  bestowed  only  once  on  each  one  during  his 
four  years'  course.  At  dark  i  he  heard  a  commotion  near  the 
guard  tents,  at  some  distance  from  the  main  camp,  and  hastened 
towards  the  place  indicated  by  the  uproar.  In  the  midst  of  a  con- 
siderable group  were  two  cadets  noisily  disputing  with  each 
other;  hardly  had  he  arrived  when  they  began  a  pitched  battle 
with  their  fists.  Prudent  bystanders  attempted  to  separate  them, 
and  the  officer  of  the  guard  ought  to  have  assisted  them,  and  sent 
the  two  combatants  to  the  guard  tents  for  breaking  the  peace  and 
the  rules  at  the  same  time.  He  did  nothing  of  the  kind  :  push- 
ing his  way  into  the  centre  of  the  group,  he  dashed  back  the 
would-be  peacemakers  with  the  words  : 

Stand  back,  boys  3  let's  have  a  fair  fight." 
Unfortunately,  his  enthusiasm  for  a     fair  fight"  was  witness- 
ed by  two  officers  of  the  army,  one  of  whom  was  the  officer  of 
the  day  ;  they  did  not  seem  to  appreciate  his  soldierly  instinct  as 
the  proper  thing,  and  he  was  placed  under  arrest. 

Only  a  few  hours  after  this  arrived  the  order  from  Washington, 
directing  the  members  of  his  class  to  report  to  the  adjutant-general 
for  further  orders;  but  he  was  detained.  Arraigned  before  a 
court-martial  with  all  the  solemnity  and  gravity  which  might 
be  looked  for  in  a  trial  for  high  treason,"  his  co.  irades  who  had 
preceded  him  to  Washington  set  influential  friends  to  work,  and 
secured  an  order  for  his  release. 


GlfcNERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


299 


The  cadets  were  soon  scattered  over  the  country  to  different 
commands,  and  the  comparative  play  of  West  Point  life  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  realities  of  ^^war's  stern  alarums/'  Fort  Sumter 
had  been  fired  upon,  the  hosts  were  marshalling  on  each  side  of 
Mason  and  Bixon's  line,  and  the  chance  which  every  young 
officer  longs  for  was  hand. 

Active  service  awaited  the  recent  graduates  from  the  Acad- 
emy, for  not  only  had  the  army  been  enormously  increased,  but 
many  of  the  officers  had  resigned  and  joined  the  enemy.  Eapid 
promotion  was  secured  by  merit,  and  Custer  confided  to  some  of 
his  comrades  that  he  was  determined  to  be  a  general  before  the 
war  was  over.  It  was  an  incautious  admission,  received  by 
many  with  ill-nat-ured  sarcasm.  What  was  determination  against 
such  odds  as  confronted  this  friendless  lieutenant. 

Chosen  by  General  Scott,  immediately  upon  his  reporting  at 
Washington,  to  carry  certain  dispatches  to  Gen.  McClellan,  he 
wondered  at  his  own  good  luck  in  thus  being  brought  face  to 
face  with  the  two  officers. 

But  his  dispatches  were  received  by  an  aide,  and  he  failed  to 
see  the  favorite  general  of  the  times.  Assigned  to  a  cavalry 
regiment,  he  witnessed  the  first  battle  of  Bull  Eun,  in  which 
that  branch  of  the  service  did  but  little  work.  We  hear  little  of 
liim  for  nearly  a  year ;  true,  he  volunteered  to  lead  a  charge  at 
Williamsburg,  which  cost  Early  four  hundred  men.  This  was 
in  May,  1862 ;  on  the  22nd  of  that  month  the  Federal  army 
had  halted  on  the  banks  of  the  Chiekahominy,  and  the  chief 
engineer.  Gen.  Barnard,  was  commissioned  to  find  ^ut  whether 
that  river  was  fordable. 

As  that  doughty  old  general  was  riding  away  from  head- 
quarters, he  saw  a  slouchy,  shabbily  dressed  young  officer,  with 
long  bright  hair,  lounging  about,  and  beckoned  to  him.  Who  he 
might  be,  the  general  did  not  know  nor  care  ;  he  merely  wanted 
an  assistant. 

Passing  through  the  picket  line,  general  and  subaltern  made 
their  way  through  the  brush  to  the  river.  The  generaFs  orders 
were  briefly  given ;  the  subordinate  was  to  ford  the  river  and 
find  out  what  could  be  seen  on  the  other  side.  As  they  had  been 
informed  that  the  enemy's  pickets  were  stationed  in  the  brush 
across  the  stream,  this  was  no  child's  play  to  thus  beard  the 
lion  in  his  den,''  as  it  were. 

Nothing  but  implicit  obedience  was  possible,  even  if  the  sub- 


300 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


ordinate  would  have  owned  to  fear;  and  he  waded  across  the 
black  water,  sometimes  sinking  nearly  to  his  armpits.  Once  on 
the  other  side,  he  peered  through  the  brush  and  saw  the  enemy's 
camp  and  the  position  of  the  pickets.  The  necessary  details 
were  sought,  and  he  obeyed  the  signals  of  his  superior  and  re- 
turned. The  grim  old  engineer  gave  a  curt  approval,  and  bade 
the  unknown  young  soldier  follow  him  to  headquarters  for  fur- 
ther orders. 

McClellan  and  his  staff,  trim  and  neat,  were  just  about  to  ride 
out  to  visit  the  different  positions,  when  the  two  rode  up,  the 
younger  man  slipping  away  at  the  very  first  opportunity  ;  Chick- 
ahorainy  mud  had  by  no  means  improved  his  personal  appear- 
ance. Gen.  Barnard  made  his  report,  that  the  river  was  ford- 
able  at  such  a  point;  then  it  came  out  that  he  had  not  forded  it 
himself,  but  some  one,  he  didn't  know  who,  had  done  it.  That 
some  one  was  at  once  sought  for,  questioned  and  listened  to  with 
earnest  attention. 

*'I  have  been  on  the  outlook  for  just  such  a  young  officer  as 
yourself,  Mr.  Custer,  for  some  time,'^  said  the  commander,  when 
the  enemy's  camp,  as  had  been  visible  to  Custer  from  the  oppo« 
•site  river  bank,  had  been  described  ;  will  you  accept  a  posi^ 
tion  on  my  staff?" 

In  this  w^ay,  Lieut.  Custer,  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  became  Capt. 
Custer,  of  Gen.  McCIellan's  staff ;  only  to  be  reduced  to  his  form- 
er rank  when  his  beloved  general  was  retired  from  the  command. 
ITor  was  this  all;  for  months  he  was  simply  awaiting  orders; 
then  he  accepted  a  position  on  Gen.  Pleasanton^s  staff;  later  still 
came  his  golden  opportunity. 

When  Lee,  changing  to  the  offensive,  began  the  northerly 
movement  which  was  finally  checked  at  Gettysburg,  the  greatest 
consternation  prevailed  among  the  people  of  the  threatened  dis- 
trict. At  first  his  purpose  was  not  clearly  understood,  but  as  it 
became  clear,  the  Federal  forces  began  the  pursuit.  June  16th, 
1863,  a  portion  of  the  cavalry  of  the  two  armies  met  at  Aldie, 
Virginia.  By  slow  degrees  this  branch  of  the  service  in  the  Fed- 
eral army  had  attained  efficiency.  At  first  regarded  as  merely 
for  scouting  and  similar  purposes,  they  had  won  no  battles;  and 
it  seemed  on  this  June  day  they  were  again  to  justify  Hooker's 
taunt :  ^'  Who  ever  saw  a  dead  cavalryman?'^ 

The  Federals  charged  down  the  road,  Stuart  was  repulsed  for 
tJie  moment,  and  Kilpatrick  brought  another  regiment  to  the 


302 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


assistance  of  the  first.  But  the  fiery  Southerners  had  not  yet 
known  defeat,  and  advanced  again  upon  the  enemy.  The  Federals 
wavered,  the  men  were  mostly  raw  recruits,  and  the  situation  a 
trying  one.  Cols.  Kilpatrick  and  Douty  rode  forward,  com- 
manding, imploring  their  men  to  follow.  There  was  no  response 
but  confusion.  Forward  from  the  broken  ranks  dashed  Custer, 
his  long  bright  hair  streaming  over  his  shoulders.  Waving  his 
sword,  he  shouted: 
^'  Come  on,  boys  V 

Clear  as  a  bugle-note  his  voice  rang  out  above  the  turmoil; 
and  only  the  clatter  of  hoofs  and  a  wild  enthusiastic  shout  answer- 
ed as  they  followed  the  new  leader.  Onward  rode  the  three,  still 
in  advance  of  the  others.  A  moment  more,  and  Col.  Douty  fell ; 
Col.  Kilpatrick  was  dismounted ;  still  Custer  rode  onward- 
Closer  and  closer  they  drew  to  the  enemy.  Before  long  it  was  a 
hand-to-hand  combat;  and  then  Stuart's  cavalry  was  fairly  de- 
feated. 

The  fury  and  heat  of  the  battle  were  over,  and  Capt.  Custer  re 
turned  to  his  duties  as  staff-oflficer  in  a  time  of  comparative  quiet- 
Several  days  afterward,  he  returned  to  camp  after  a  long  day's 
ride.  Entering  the  large  tent  where  his  brother  aides  were  chat 
ting  and  smoking,  the  group  of  ofiicers  seemed  unusually  hilar- 
ious ;  a  repetition  of  the  frequent  chaff  on  the  subject  of  his  ambi- 
tion greeted  him  : 
Hallo,  general  r 
^'  Pretty  tired,  general 

Gentlemen,  General  Custer 
*^How  are  you,  general?'' 
Allow  me  to  congratulate  j^ou,  general,''  with  a  low  bow. 
You're  looking  well,  general." 
With  his  blue  eyes  flashing  with  anger  which  he  could  hardly 
control,  he  replied,  with  some  bitterness  in  response  to  the  re- 
lentless teasing  : 

Laugh  as  much  as  you  please,  but  I  will  be  a  general  yet,  for 
all  your  chaff.    See  if  I'm  not,  that's  all." 

He  looked  around  the  group  of  mischievous  faces;  if  one 
smile  were  a  shade  more  malicious  than  the  others,  with  that 
man  he  weuld  quarrel ;  but  none  excelled.  There  was  a  friend- 
ly hand  on  his  shoulder,  a  quiet  voice  in  his  ear  : 

Look  on  the  table,  old  fellow;  they're  not  chaffing  you  thiji 
time." 


QGN£RAIi  GEOBQE  A.  CUSTEE. 


303 


It  was  Captain  Yates, afterward  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Sev- 
enth Cavalry^  Custer  turned  to  the  table;  and  there,  in  the 
midst  of  the  papers,  lay  a  large  official  envelope  addressed  to 

Brigadier-General  George  A.  Custer,  U.  S.  Vols/'  Gen.  Pleas- 
anton  had  sent  in  the  names  of  five  officers  for  promotion,  but 
Custer  had  never  dreamed  that  his  dash  and  daring  had  already 
won  him  the  coveted  star  oi  a  brigadier,  thus  early  in  the  war 
and  in  his  career. 

His  rapid  promotion  did  not  endear  him  to  his  brother  officers; 
over  whose  heads  he  stepped  j  but  before  he  had  led  that  brig- 
ade twice  into  battle,  his  men  were  ready  to  die  for  him.  To 
many  an  old  soldier's  eye  the  picture  is  still  vivid :  the  tall, 
lithe  form  of  the  young  officer,  clad  in  trousers  and  loose  jacket 
of  velveteen,  the  sleeves  of  the  latter  garment  nearly  covered 
with  the  gold  lace  which  he  used  to  indicate  his  rank;  the  broad 
falling  collar  of  his  blue  shirt  ornamented  with  a  silver  star;  a 
low-crowned,  broad-brimmed  soft  felt  hat  sat  upon  the  flowing 
golden  curls,  a  flaming  red  necktie  giving  whatever  else  of  col- 
or was  needed;  in  short,  it  must  be  confessed  he  was  the  dandy 
general  of  the  army. 

Through  the  war  we  need  not  follow  him.  Custer's  luck'* 
was  the  envy  of  his  comrades;  he  knew  how  to  seize  the  golden 
opportunities  that  they  let  slip.  His  men  rebelled  at  being  com- 
manded  by  a  ^'  boy-general;''  not  openly,  of  course  ;  but  sullen 
discontent  was  plainly  written  on  their  faces.  But  at  Gettysburg 
he  led  them  in  a  charge;  they  were  victorious;  and  idolized 
their  young  commander  from  that  day  forth. 

Nor  did  he  attain  the  lowest  grade  only  of  the  coveted  rank  • 
in  little  more  than  a  year  after  his  nomination  as  a  brigadier,  he 
was  brevetted  major-general  and  placed  in  command  of  the 
Third  Cavalry  Division. 

Four  years  of  hard  fighting,  and  the  war  was  over^  Gen.  Custer 
receiving  the  first  flag  of  truce  that  was  sent  by  Gen.  Lee.  The 
whole  country  had  been  eager  and  anxious^  and  now  that  the 
bad  had  been  definitely  decided,  the  heroes  must  be  welcomed 
with  ovations,  crowned  with  laurels.  The  Army  of  the  Potomac 
was  ordered  to  the  c^pitol,  there  to  pass  in  review  before  the 
President  of  the  United  States — not  him,  alas!  to  whom  that 
title  had  belonged  during  the  whole  of  the  war;  for  him  their 
banners  were  shrouded  in  mourning,  dark  as  the  smoke  of  the 
battlefield. 


304 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


But  despite  the  torn  and  shaded  flags,  it  was  a  grand  spec^ 
taele — that  host  of  war-worn  veterans.  Foremost  in  the  line  of 
parade  rode  Custer,  the  most  striking  figure  that  could  have 
been  selected  for  the  position. 

As  he  approached  the  President's  stand,  a  sudden  burst  of 
music  filled  the  air;  and  the  voices  of  three  hundred  young  girls 
bade  Hail  to  the  Chief/'  Nor  was  this  all.  Each  white-robed 
'maiden  bore  a  bouquet  or  wreath,  and  these  fell  in  a  perfect 
shower  upon  the  gallant  young  Adonis.  As,  laughing  at  the  mimic 
missiles,  he  tried  to  catch  the  flowers,  his  spirited  horse  took 
fright;  like  a  shot  he  went  along  the  broad  avenue.  As  he  pass- 
ed the  President's  stand,  he  endeavored  to  salute;  but  his  sabre 
caught  in  his  wide  hat,  and  both  fell  to  the  ground.  Then  with 
his  long  bright  hair  floating  in  the  wind,  he  settled  himself  in 
the  saddle ;  in  a  moment,  mind  had  triumphed  over  matter,  and 
his  charger  once  more  under  perfect  control,  he  dashed  back  to 
to  the  head  of  his  column.  He  had  witched  the  world  with 
noble  horsemanship,"  and  Custer's  luck"  had  made  him  the 
best  remembered,  most  talked  of  figure  of  the  day;  he  was  al 
ready  better  known  than  many  much  older  generals. 

There  was  no  farther  use  for  the  volunteers ;  the  army  must  b© 
reduced  to  a  peace  footing.  Eegiment  after  regiment  was  mus- 
tered out,  those  ofl'cers  who  had  been  civilians  returned  to  their 
homes,  while  the  old  army  ofiicers,  stripped  of  the  rank  in  connee ' 
tion  with  this  corps,  were  reduced  to  their  former  station.  Majo:*- 
G-eneral  Custer  of  the  Volunteers  became  Captain  Custer  of  th(d 
Fifth  Cavalry.  The  organization  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  in  Jilly, 
1866,  gave  him  a  commission  as  lieutenant-colonel ;  and  this  was 
his  actual  rank  for  the  next  ten  years. 

We  need  not  dwell  upon  his  desire  to  go  to  Mexico,  in  those 
last  days  of  the  unfortunate  Maximilian.  A  few  months  after  the 
organization  of  the  regiment  it  was  detailed  for  frontier  duty. 
Accordingly  we  find  him  at  Fort  Eiley,  in  command  of  his  regi- 
ment, since  the  colonel  was  department  chief.  Eecruits  came 
from  the  large  towns,  enlisting  with  the  desir.e  of  shirking  every 
duty  they  could,  and  intending  to  desert  when  they  got  tired. 
These  must  be  transformed  from  raw  recruits  to  veterans  and 
heroes. 

The  Indians  saw  that  before  the  iron  horse  the  buffalo  must 
retreat.  The  lack  of  game  would  reduce  them  to  ignoble 
work,  and,  exasperated  by  the  prospect  of  being  thus  reduced 


306 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ,\.  CUSTER. 


to  iguoMe  work,  perpetrated  many  outrages.  During  the  sum- 
mer  and  fall  of  1866  numerous  tliefts  and  murders  had  been  com- 
mitted, the  stations  of  the  overland  mail  route  had  been  attacked, 
but  the  guilty  Cheyennes  and  Sioux  had  never  been  called  to  ac- 
count. The  agents  of  these  tribes  doubtless  knew  who  had  com- 
mitted these  offenses,  but  an  attempt  to  bring  them  to  punish- 
ment would  have  interfered  with  the  profits  of  trade ;  and  what- 
ever recent  investigation  may  have  failed  to  prove  of  the  Indian 
agents,  it  ce>rtainly  shows  that  they  are  not  as  honest  and  dis- 
interested as  our  favorite  political  candidate.  The  leading 
chiefs  and  warriors  of  the  various  tribes  had  threatened  an  out- 
break along  the  whole  frontier  as  soon  as  the  grass  was  green  in 
the  spring ;  and  to  intimidate  these,  rather  than  to  punish  those 
who  had  already  committed  crimes,  Gen.  Hancock  set  out  with  a 
largo  force,  comprising  inft  itry,  cavalry  and  artillery.  At  Port 
Eiley,  Gren.  Custer  joined  this  force,  with  four  companies  of  his 
regiment. 

Much  time  wais*  consumed  in  trying  to  induce  the  Indians  to 
come  into  council.  Eunners  had  been  sent  out  to  the  principal 
chiefs,  and  all  had  agreed  to  assemble  near  Fort  Larned  on  the 
tenth  of  April;  but  they  encamped  thirty  miles  away.  It  soon  be- 
came evident  that  they  did  not  intend  to  allow  this  distance  to 
decrease  ;  the  message  to  the  effect  that,  discovering  a  large  herd 
of  buffalo,  they  had  stopped  to  procure  meat,  was  not  received 
with  much  confidence.  Gen.  Hancock  resolved  to  move  nearer 
to  the  Indian  encampment,  and  although  Bull  Bear,  a  Cheyenne 
chief,  reported  that  the  chiefs  of  his  own  tribe  and  the  Sioux  were 
on  their  way,  the  army  resumed  the  march.  They  had  gone  only 
a  few  miles  when  they  beheld  an  Indian  line  of  battle  drawn  di- 
rectly across  their  path.  There  were  several  hundred  warriors, 
most  of  them  mounted,  armed  with  bow  and  arrows,  tomahawk 
and  scalping-knife,  each  one  carrying,  besides  these  traditional 
arms  of  his  race,  either  a  revolver  or  a  breech-loading  rifle,  some 
being,  by  the  kindness  of  the  Indian  Department,  provided  with 
both.  Scattered  over  the  wide  extended  plain  were  small  parties, 
evidently  scouts  and  couriers. 

For  a  moment  a  fight  seemed  the  inevitable  result  of  this  war 
like  array.  The  infantry  and  artillery  formed  in  line  of  battle, 
and  the  cavalry  marching  on  the  flank  came  galloping  up,  their 
drawn  sabres  flashing  in  the  mornins:  sunlight.  Along  the  hos- 
tile line  rode  the  chiefs,  evidently  exhorting  their  warriors  to 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


deeds  of  heroism,  while  each  side  seemed  waiting  for  the  othei 
to  strike  the  first  blow.  In  the  midst  of  the  universal  anxiety 
and  expectation,  Gen.  Hancock,  accompanied  by  his  staff,  rode 
forward  and  invited  the  chiefs  to  meet  him  midway  between  the 
two  opposing  forces.  About  ten  or  a  dozen  of  the  principal  Chey- 
ennes  and  Sioux  therefore  rode  to  the  point  designated,  and  shook 
hands  with  the  officers,  seemingly  much  gratified  at  this  peace- 
ful termination  of  the  encounter. 

The  interview  ended,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  plans  then 
proposed,  the  Indians  went  back  to  their  village,  the  soldiers 
following  leisurely  in  the  rear,  and  encamping  neai*^  the  savages' 
lodges.  Here  they  found  that  the  women  and  children  had  fled 
in  dread  anticipation  of  a  massacre ;  and  two  chiefs,  who  volun. 
teered  to  follow  and  bring  them  back  if  Gen.  Hancock  would 
provide  them  with  horses,  failed  to  return.  One  of  the  scouts, 
later  in  the  evening,  reported  that  the  rest  of  the  chiefs  were  sad- 
dling up  to  leave,  and  Custer  was  at  once  directed  to  surround 
the  village  with  his  men  in  order  to  prevent  their  departure 
Complete  quiet  reigned,  as  if  the  inmates  of  the  lodges  wer^* 
asleep.  Investigation  showed  that  the  camp  was  entirely  empty  , 
fearful  of  a  massacre,  the  Indians  had  fled,  leaving  all  their  pro 
perty.  It  is  probable  that  the  scout  who  brought  the  inform-, 
ation,  himself  a  half-breed  Cheyenne,  had  played  a  double  gamq 
the  long  operation  of  surrounding  the  village  so  quietly  as  not  id 
alarm  the  quick-eared  Indians,  causing  a  loss  of  much  valuable 
time. 

Tbe  cavalry  was  ordered  to  follow  the  Indians.  Before  day 
light  all  their  careful  preparations  for  pursuit  were  completed  , 
and  all  chance  of  catching  the  fugitives  was  gone.  Following 
the  trail  carefully,  preceded  by  their  company  of  plainsmen  r.nd 
friendly  Indians,  their  only  success  lay  in  compelling  their  me- 
my  to  disperse  into  small  parties.  Thus  the  trail  was  lost,  and 
the  troops  were  obliged  to  give  up  the  pursuit. 

Satisfied  that  the  Indians  must  be  many  miles  in  advance  of 
them,  and  that  the  country  was  full  of  game.  Gen.  Custer  left, 
his  men  before  they  found  that  the  Indians  had  separated,  and 
galloped  off  after  some  antelopes  that  were  descried  in  the  dis 
tance.  Always  a  lover  of  dogs,  he  was  accompanied  by  severa 
fine  English  greyhounds,  and  was  mounted  on  a  thorough-bre( 
horse  of  remarkable  size  and  speed.  But  though  he  took  advan 
tage  of  every  turn,  the  fleet  animals  eluded  his  pursuit,  and  call 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A,  CUSTER. 


309 


ing  off  his  dogs,  he  was  trying  to  determine  how  far  he  was  from 
the  troops,  when  he  saw,  about  a  mile  from  him,  a  large,  dark  ani- 
mal grazing.  Though  he  had  never  seen  one  in  its  wild  state, 
he  instantly  recognized  this  as  a  buffalo,  and  of  the  largest  size. 
An  ardent  sportsman,  this  was  an  opportunity  such  as  had  never 
yet  befallen  him.  Calling  hiS  dogs  to  follow  him,  he  slowly  pur- 
sued the  course  of  a  neighboring  ravine  until  he  had  approached 
nearly  within  pistol-shot  of  the  game;  his  leisurely  advance  be- 
ing designed  to  give  the  horse  opportunity  to  recover  himself 
for  a  second  run.  The  buffalo  discovered  the  presence  of  the 
hunter,  and  set  off  at  his  utmost  speed. 

Fast  and  far  sped  the  frightened  buffalo  ;  the  good  greyhounds 
were  left  behind;  only  the  horse  and  his  rider  followed  the  huge 
animal,  and  at  last  commenced  to  gain  upon  him.  Mile  after  mile 
over  the  springy  turf,  and  the  mettle  of  the  thoroughbred  began  to 
show  in  the  race  for  life  and  death.  The  protruding  tongue  and 
labored  breathing  of  the  bison  proved  that  he  could  not  long 
continue  his  flight,  and  the  wild,  delighted  yells  of  the  hunter 
greeted  these  evidences  of  weakness.  Placing  the  muzzle  of 
his  revolver  close  to  the  shaggy  hide  of  the.  buffalo,  he  had  his 
finger  on  the  trigger,  when  the  animal,  exhausted  by  the  long 
chascj  and  feeling  himself  unable  to  escape  by  flight,  wheeled 
around  and  lowered  his  horns  to  gore  the  horse.  Instinctively 
the  charger  veered  about  to  avoid  the  attack,  and  to  retain  con- 
trol over  him  the  rider  brought  his  right  hand  to  the  assistance 
of  his  left.  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  his  finger  pressed 
the  trigger,  and  the  ball  went  straight  through  the  brain  of  the 
horse.  He  fell  dead  in  the  midst  of  his  leap,  and  Custer,  disen- 
gaging himself  from  the  stirrups  as  soon  as  he  realized  the  situa- 
tion, found  himself  whirling  in  the  air  beyond  his  horse's  head, 
his  one  thought  being : 

What  will  the  buffalo  do  with  me  V 

But  Mr.  Bison  was  too  much  astonished  by  the  strange  pro- 
ceeding to  make  any  attack  upon  his  late  pursuer,  and  he  fled 
over  the  prairies,  this  time  unchased.  Fortunately  for  Custer  in 
his  buffalo  hunt  he  had  retraced  the  steps  taken  in  pursuit  of  the 
antelopes,  and  was  now  ahead  of  his  own  column. 

Giving  up  the  idea  of  catching  the  Indians,  it  was  decided  to 
push  on  and  warn  the  stations  on  the  stage  route  that  the  Chey- 
ennes  and  Sioux  would  soon  be  on  the  war-path ;  but  for  many 
the  warning  came  too  late.    The  golden  opportunity  had  been 


GENERAL  GEORaE  A.  OUSTER. 


lost  when  Gen.  Hancock  allowed  the  Indian  village  to  be  desert- 
ed. Of  course,  Custer,  a  young  officer,  without  experience  in  this 
kind  of  fighting,  could  not  pretend  to  advise  a  general  of  Han- 
''ock's  long  service  on  the  plains,  even  though  a  mistake  was 
manifestly  being  committed. 

The  abandoned  village  was  burned,  and  war  formally  opened. 
G-en.  Hancock  called  a  council  at  Fort  Dodge,  where  the  Kiowas 
and  Arapahoes  were  the  most  prominent  tribes  represented.  Ex- 
travagant promises  of  good  conduct  were  made,  especially  by 
Satanta,  of  the  Kiowas,  and  his  fervid  friendship  was  soon  re 
warded  by  the  gift  of  the  uniform  coat,  sash  and  hat  of  a  major 
general. 

When  he  attacked  Fort  Dodge  a  few  weeks  later,  he  was 
thus  enabled,  by  the  extraordinary  courtesy  of  his  white  foes, 
to  appear  in  full  uniform. 

With  a  force  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  men,  Custer  was  or- 
dered on  his  first  Indian  scout,  with  directions  to  proceed  from 
Fort  Hays  in  Kansas,  to  Fort  McPherson  in  Nebraska;  thence 
southward  in  a  semi-circle,  returning  to  Fort  Hays  by  way  of 
Fort  Sedgwick  and  Wallace.  This  would  involve  a  ride  of  more 
than  a  thousand  miles,  which  was  quite  a  journey  for  the  young 
officer,  unused  as  yet  to  plains  life  and  plains  distances,  as  well 
as  to  Indian  fighting. 

Having  seen  but  one  war  party  of  Indians  since  leaving  the 
main  body,  and  unable  to  catch  that,  they  arrived  at  Fort  Mc- 
Pherson, remaining  there  a  few  days,  in  accordance  with  the  or- 
ders of  G-en.  Sherman.  Here  Custer  learned  another  important 
lesson  in  Indian  fighting.  A  council  was  held  this  time  with 
Pawnee  Killer,  one  of  the  Sioux  chiefs  who  had  escaped  from 
Gen.  Hancock.  Promising  to  bring  his  band  to  encamp  by  the 
fort,  he  received  from  Custer  presents  of  such  finery  and  dainties 
as  were  best  suited  to  his  taste,  and  left  for  his  village,  well  sat- 
isfied. 

The  presents  were  all  that  Pawnee  Killer  was  after;  Gen. 
Sherman  soon  afterward  arrived,  and  from  him  Custer  learned 
what  was  the  value  of  Indian  promises.  A  detachment  sent  out 
immediately  to  find  the  chief  and  make  him  do  as  he  had  prom- 
ised, failed  in  its  object,  and  Custer  and  his  men  set  out  on  their 
return  expedition.  No  real  fighting  bad  yet  occurred  ;  but  plen- 
ty of  Indian  warfare,  attended  by  its  utmost  barbarities,  was 
soon  to  be  experier  >ed.  According  t©  a  modification  of  the  plan 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER, 


311 


first  proposed,  a  trusty  officer  was  to  be  sent,  with  u  sufficient 
escort,  to  Fort  Sedgwick  with  Custer^s  dispatch,  and  to  receive  any 
dispatches  there  for  him.  The  train  of  twenty  wagons  was  to  go 
to  Port  Wallace  for  supplies,  the  condition  of  the  roads  prevent- 
ing such  a  journey  to  McPherson. 


ouster's  intervie\y  with  pawnee  killer* 


Major  Elliot  was  selected  as  the  bearer  of  dispatches,  and  set 
out  with  an  escort  often  men  in  one  direction  at  the  same  time 


^12 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


ihat  the  train,  guarded  by  a  full  squadron  of  cavalry,  left  th^ 
x3amp  in  another.  The  rest  of  the  force  settled  down  to  the  ted- 
ious task  of  waiting,  the  monotony  of  which  was  only  relieved 
by  the  evening  concert  of  the  wolves  around  the  camp,  and  by  a 
visit  from  Pawnee  Killer  and  some  of  his  braves.  These,  as  be- 
fore, professed  great  friendship  for  the  whites,  find  especially  for 
the  "  Yellow  Chief; such  was  the  Indian  form  of  the  newspaper 
correspondent's  "  floating  golden  curls  of  the  bo;/-general.''  Paw- 
nee Killer  had  no  great  respect  for  the  young  officer  whom  he 
had  already  fooled,  and  wound  up  the  conference  by  a  request  for 
coffee,  sugar  and  ammunition ;  but  his  contempt  was  unmerited. 
Custer  had  learned  the  lesson,  and  was  not  to  be  again  deceived 
Into  trusting  an  Indian.  The  Sioux,  despairing  of  being  able  to 
massacre  the  soldiers,  for  such  had  been  the  object  of  their  com- 
ing, took  to  flight;  the  chief  managing  to  secure  a  revolver  that 
had  been  left  lying  near  him;  and  the  large  and  heavy  horses  of 
the  troops  being  unable  to  overtake  the  fleet  and  hardy  ponies 
of  the  Indians,  the  party,  after  a  short  pursuit^  returned  to  camp. 

The  success  of  a  troop  sent  out  against  a  small  body  of  the 
jsavages  that  appeared  soon  afterwards,  did  not  entirely  reassure 
them ;  much  anxiety  was  felt  regarding  Major  Elliot  and  his  men, 
and  the  wagon  train.  The  former  was  thought  to  be  in  th  >  most 
danger,  from  the  weakness  of  the  party  ;  but  when,  a  few  days 
afterwards,  the  little  detachment,  safe  and  sound,  rode  into  camp, 
the  general  felt  assured  that  the  hostile  Indians  would  attack 
the  train.  He  could  not  hope  that  they  had  remained  in  ignor- 
ance of  either  expedition ;  but,  knowing  of  both,  they  probably 
determined  to  wait  until  the  wagons  loaded  with  supplies  should 
feturn,  and  thus  secure  a  victory  that  should  be  more  than  an 
empty  honor. 

Thinking  this,  and  believing  that  his  wife,  w  "''m  he  thought 
at  Fort  Wallace,  would  put  herself  under  protection  of  the  train 
to  join  him  in  camp,  Custer  determined  to  take  every  possible 
measure  for  the  protection  of  this  party.  He  accordingly  sent 
out  a  full  squadron,  well  mounted  and  armed,  to  meet  the  train, 
which  was  defended  by  forty-eight  men.  Attack  was  not  antici- 
pated before  the  wagons  reached  Beaver  Creek,  fifty  miles  from 
the  camp,  as  they  would  have  the  advantage  of  a  larger  escort  as 
far  as  that  point. 

The  way  from  the  camp  to  Port  Wallace  lay  over  the  open 
plain;  where  the  deep  ravines  leading  to  the  water  courses  would 


•1ENERAI*  CJEORGE  A.  CTJS'i'Ek 


3U 


OENEBAL  GEOEGE  A«  CUSTER. 


afford  shelter  to  unfriendly  Indians.    Yet  so  level  was  the  plain, 

so  almost  imperceptible  was  the  course  of  the  raviiies,  that  an  un- 
practised eye  would  have  seen  no  place  of  concealment. 

<^  If  the  Injuns  strike  us  at  all/^  said  the  wary  scout,  Comstock, 
with  the  train,  as  they  approached  a  point  of  which  we  shall 
hear  again,  "  it  will  be  just  about  the  time  that  we're  comin' 
back  along  this  very  spot.    Now  mind  what  I  tell  you,  all.^^ 

The  suggestion  of  a  young  and  inexperienced  oflOicer  that  the 
Indians  seemed  to  have  departed  from  that  region,  brought  the 
reply,  full  of  wisdom  :  "  Whar  thar  ain't  no  Injuns,  thar  you'll 
find  'em  thickest." 

And  as  they  approached  this  spot  on  the  return,  the  keen  eye  of 
the  scout  saw  peering  over  the  brow  of  the  hill  far  away  to  the 
right,  strange  figures.  His  field-glass  revealed  that  they  were  In- 
dians, and  his  judgment  was  soon  confirmed  by  the  officers.  In  a 
little  while  the  sharp-eyed  savages  saw  that  they  were  discovered 
and  rode  boldly  to  the  crest  of  the  hill.  Twenty,  thirty,  a  hun- 
dred warriors  came  in  view,  and  still  from  beyond  the  hill  new 
hosts  appeared.  Between  six  and  seven  hundred  Indians,  array- 
ed in  full  war  costume,  brilliantly  hideous  with  paint  and  feath- 
ers, armed  with  carbines  and  revolvers,  sometimes  with  bows 
and  arrows,  bore  down  upon  them. 

The  white  men  could  only  resolve  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly 
as  possible.  The  train  was  formed  in  two  parallel  columns,  the 
cavalry  horses  between  them ;  the  dismounted  men  being  formed 
in  a  circle  enclosing  the  wagons,  then  the  march  was  resumed.  As 
they  went  onward  in  momentary  expectation  of  an  attack,  the 
Indians  continued  to  approach  until  they  came  within  easy  range  j 
the  troops  had  orders,  however,  not  to  fire  unless  attacked.  Sud- 
denly, with  a  wild  whoop,  the  savages  rushed  at  them.  To  stam- 
pede the  horses,  to  massacre  the  escort,  to  carry  oif  the  supplies 
in  the  wagons — such  was  evidently  their  plan.  Forward  they 
dashed,  as  if  to  trample  beneath  the  feet  of  their  ponies  the  hand- 
ful of  men  at  that  side  of  the  wagons  3  the  cavalrymen  dropped 
to  their  knees  as  the  Indians  came  thundering  upon  them,  and 
taking  deliberate  aim  at  the  moving  mass,  poured  a  deadly  vol- 
ley into  the  crowded  ranks.  As  they  wheeled  oif  to  the  right, 
only  pausing  to  gain  possession  of  the  bodies  of  those  who  had 
fallen,  the  white  men  cheered  loudly,  and  Comstock  taunted  them^ 
in  tieir  own  tongue,  with  their  lack  of  success.  But  his  words 
to  ^  is  companions  gave  a  less  hopeful  view.  Seeing  that  the  sav- 


GENERAL  GEORi^Jjii  ^,  OUSTER.  315 


316 


iJENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER- 


ages  haa  withdrawn  out  of  rifle  range,  where  they  were  evident^ 
ly  holding  a  consultation,  he  said  : 

^'There^s  no  sich  good  luck  as  that  they're  goin'  to  give  it  up 
jio.  Six  hundred  red  devils  ain't  agoin'  to  let  fifty  men  keep  'em 
from  gettin'  at  the  sugar  and  coffee  that's  in  these  wagons,  and 
they  want  our  scalps  besides,  to  pay  for  them  we  popped  over  a 
few  minutes  ago." 

As  the  officers  passed  along  the  line,  cautioning  the  men  not  to 
waste  ammunition,  as  all  of  it  on  hand  would  probably  be  need- 
ed, the  Indians  returned  to  the  attack,  but  in  a  different  manner. 
They  had  hoped  at  first  that  their  great  superiority  of  numbers 
would  enable  them  to  accomplish  easily  their  purpose  ;  but  this 
style  of  attack,  so  foreign  to  the  Indian's  nature,  had  proven  un- 
fortunate, and  they  determined  to  act  with  greater  caution.  Led 
by  the  chiefs,  the  whole  army  of  redskins  rode  in  single  file,  at  a 
safe  distance  from  the  carbines  of  the  troops.  Gradually  the  long 
line  turned,  curving  around  the  smaller  circle  of  troops,  until 
the  whites  were  completely  surrounded.  Still  they  rode  around 
and  around,  as  the  vulture  circles  about  the  dying  prey.  Each 
warrior  throws  himself  upon  the  side  of  his  well-trained  pony, 
leaving  only  his  head  and  one  foot  exposed,  and  thus  protected 
by  a  living  barricade,  aims  either  over  or  under  the  neck  of  his 
steed. 

Still  the  little  force  of  white  men  marched  steadily  onward,  de. 
fending  themselves  with  results  fatal  to  many  Indians.  ¥or  three 
hours  the  fight  was  kept  up,  and  now  every  moment  increased 
the  danger.  Although  the  redskins  had  suffered  great  loss  in 
men  and  ponies,  the  cavalry  found  their  supply  of  ammunition 
was  running  low,  and  would  soon  be  exhausted.  Night  or  a  rein- 
forcement was  the  onl}^  hope  ;  but  it  was  still  early  in  the  day, 
and  their  comrades  in  the  camp  could  not  know  what  had  befalL 
en  them. 

Meanwhile  the  keen-eyed  Indian  scouts,  posted  along  the  high 
bluffs  which  bordered  the  plain,  had  seen  a  faint,  dark  line  on  the 
horizon  ;  a  line  which  might  be  a  break  in  the  ground,  the  shadow 
of  a  cloud.  But  slowly  it  moved  along,  as  if  the  cloud  were 
driven  by  the  winds,  and  in  a  moment  the  savages  saw  that  it  was 
a  column  of  cavalry  moving  rapidly  towards  them.  Three  hours 
hard  riding  had  exhausted  even  the  hardy  Indian  ponies,  and 
the  chiefs  and  warriors  decided  to  escape  while  it  was  still  pos- 
iible.    The  cavalry  was  at  leu ^t  two  hours'  journey  from  them. 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


317 


but  their  horses  might  be  in  good  condition  for  pursuit,  and  be 
able  to  overtake  them.  Your  true  noble  red  man'^  always  wish- 
es large  odds  against  his  enemy. 

To  the  surprise  of  the  troops,  then,  a  furious  hail  of  shot  and 
arrows  was  followed  by  their  withdrawal ;  busily  engaged  in  at- 
tending to  the  wounded,  of  whom,  however,  there  were  but  few, 
about  an  hour  had  passed,  when  new  cause  for  alarm  appeared — 
a  body  of  horsemen  approaching  them.  Another  force  of  Indians, 
they  thought;  but  the  field-glasses  revealed  to  them  the  familiar 
blue  blouses  of  their  comrades,  and  the  hasty  retreat  of  their  as- 
sailants was  explained. 

Great  anxiety  was  felt  in  regard  to  a  party  of  eleven  men,  that 
had  been  sent  to  Port  Wallace  on  a  mission  similar  to  Major  El- 
liot's under  the  command  of  Lieutenant  Kidder.  Comstock's 
opinion  was  far  from  encouraging  : 

Ef  I  knowed  what  kind  of  a  man  the  lootenant  was,  I  could 
tell  you  mighty  nigh  to  a  certainty  what  you  want  to  know.  But 
yer  see,  Injun  huntin'  and  Injun  fightin'  is  a  trade  of  itself,  and 
it  takes  some  time  to  larn  the  business.  Ef  a  man  donH  kno\^ 
what  he's  about,  he  can't  make  a  livin'  at  it.  I've  lots  of  confi 
dence  in  the  fightin'  sense  of  Eed  Bead  (the  Sioux  guide),  and 
ef  he  can  have  his  way  about  it,  thar's  a  purty  fair  show.  But  J 
don't  know  how  far  the  lootenant  will  take  advice.  I  reckon 
them  young  fellers  that  have  jist  come  from  West  Pint  kwow  all 
the  book-larnin',  but  they  ain't  had  a  chance  at  anj  thing  else, 
and  ginerally,  if  one  of  'em  know'd  half  as  much  as  he  thinks  he 
does,  you  couldn't  tell  him  nothing.'' 

The  command  had  in  the  meantime  moved  forward  from  the 
forks  of  the  Eepublican  Eiver  to  the  Platte,  and  it  was  determined 
to  return  to  the  point  at  which  a  large  body  had  left  the  main 
party,  lest  Lieutenant  Kidder  should  miss  the  trail.  At  length  they 
foand  the  trail  of  the  detachment,  leading  to  the  old  camp  on  the 
Eepublican.  Two  days  farther  would  take  them  to  Port  Wallace, 
jpf^nce  they  must  soon  know  the  fate  of  the  party.  iPt  length  the 
body  of  a  white  horse  was  found,  shot  within  the  last  few  days, 
^nd  with  the  brand  XJ.  S.  It  was  the  color  of  those  ridden  by  the 
/orce,  and  there  was  but  little  room  to  doubt  that  it  was  one 
theirs.  All  the  equipments  had  been  carried  away,  and  nothing 
remained  to  indicate  whether  it  bad  been  taken  ill,  and  shot 
by  the  soldiers,  or  killed  in  a  fight.  Proceeding  onward,  they 
found  the  trail  regular  and  unhurried,  as  when  at  first  discov 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


319 


ered ;  after  going  a  little  distance  they  found  another  horse, 
near  which  Comstoek's  eye  saw  pony  tracks ;  and  the  solution 
was  no  longer  doubtful. 

Following  the  trail,  they  found  evidence  that  Kidder  and  his 
men  must  have  trusted  to  the  speed  of  their  horses  ;  and  for  sev- 
eral miles  the  pursuit  had  continued.  "Within  a  mile  of  Beaver 
Creek,  where  a  dense  growth  of  tall  wild  grass  was  mingled  with 
clumps  of  osiers,  they  saw  large  buzzards  floating  in  the  air  above 
them,  and  the  odor  which  pervaded  the  atmosphere  was  unmis- 
takable. Eiding  in  all  directions  in  search  of  them,  one  of  the, 
Delawares  accompanying  them  uttered  a  shout  that  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  whole  command.  There,  within  the  limits  of  a  very 
small  circle,  lay  the  mangled,  mutilated  bodies  of  the  eleven 
men.  Every  scalp  but  Eed  Bead's  had  been  taken,  and  every 
skull  crushed  by  the  blow  of  %  tomahawk  ;  the  features  of  each 
face  so  disfigured  tnat  not  one  could  be  recognized,  nor  could 
the  officer  be  distinguished  from  the  men;  each  body  was  brist- 
ling with  arrows.  How  long  the  fight  continued  could  not  be 
told,  but  evidence  of  a  desperate  struggle  was  found  about  the 
ground.  Only  the  body  of  the  Sioux  chief  was  not  mutilated, 
conclusive  proof  that  this  was  the  work  of  his  own  tribe.  Th<# 
fact  that  the  throats  of  all  were  cut,  was,  to  the  experienced 
plainsmen,  another  indication  of  the  same  thing;  since  this  was 
the  mark  by  which  the  Sioux  designated  their  victims.  The 
bodies  were  buried  in  a  large  trench,  and  the  march  was  con 
tinned. 

But  another  danger  beset  the  command,  this  time  from  withiB 
itself.  Allured  by  the  largre  wages  paid  to  miners,  and  fright-^ 
ened  by  the  fate  of  those  who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians^ 
many  of  the  men  deserted,  some  in  broad  daylight,  riding  off  in 
sight  of  their  officers,  and  firing  upon  pursuers.  Of  the  fifty- 
three  deserters,  who  escaped  in  this  way  or  under  cove  r  of  night, 
six  were  recaptured  ;  and  strict  vigilance  prevented  any  further 
attempt. 

Arriving  at  Fort  Wallace,  Custer  found  the  supplies  at  that 
point  nearly  exhausted,  and  no  communication  existing  between 
that  and  other  stations.  He  accordingly  selected  a  hundred  of 
his  best  mounted  men  to  go  to  Fort  Harker,  a  distance  of  two 
hundred  miles,  and  judging  that  Fort  Wallace  would  be  left  in 
peace,  chose  to  accompany  it  himself.  At  every  station  they 
heard  of  Indians  having  been  in  the  vicinity  within  a  few  days 


S20 


GENERAL  GEORGi]  A.  CUSTER. 


of  their  arrival,  but  for  some  time  found  no  fresh  signfe  of  theil 
neighborhood.  Eapid  marching,  however,  was  necessary,  and 
though  two  men  were  killed  by  the  Indians  while  far  in  the  rear^ 
they  were  left  to  be  buried  by  the  troops  at  the  nearest  station. 

Leaving  the  command  to  rest  one  day  at  Fort  Hays,  General 
Custer,  accompanied  by  Cols.  Cook  and  Custer  and  two  troop- 
ers, rode  on  to  Fort  Harker.  Here  he  sent  telegrams  announc- 
ing the  Kidder  massacre,  and  there  being  no  necessity  for  his 
presence  until  the  train  should  be  ready  to  return,  asked  and  re- 
ceived of  General  Smith,  his  superior  officer,  authority  to  visit 
his  family  at  Fort  Eiley,  ninety  miles  by  rail  from  Fort  Harker. 
The  ingenuity  of  his  enemies  turned  this  expedition  for  sup- 
plies into  a  journey  on 
private  business ;  and  for 
leaving  Fort  Wallace 
without  orders,  marching 
his  men  excessively,  and 
allowing  two  of  them  to 
be  killed,  he  was  actually 
brought  before  a  court 
martial.  Custer  showed 
that  he  had  acted  upon 
the  last  orders  that  he 
had  received  from  Gen, 
Sherman,  who  had  told 
him  to  proceed  to  Fort 
Wallace,  where  Gen.  Han 
cock  would  give  him  further  directions  3  that  since  the  latter  offi- 
cer iiad  left  Fort  Wallace  before  his  arrival,  he  thought  it  his 
duty  to  follow  him  personally,  but  necessity  had  compelled  him 
to  obtain  supplies  for  the  station.  But  the  Indian  campaign  of 
1867  had  been  a  failure,  and  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  scape-goato 
Custer  was  therefore  selected  to  be  held  up  as  the  cause  of  fail- 
ure, and  being  found  guilty,  was  sentenced  to  be  suspended  from 
rank  and  pay  for  a  year.  The  justice  of  this  sentence  is  not 
apparent;  if  he  deserved  any  punishment  at  all,  if  the  charges 
were  at  all  true,  he  should  have  been  instantly  dismissed ;  if  this 
was  too  severe  for  th6  facts,  he  was  not  guilty  of  the  offense  with 
which  he  was  charged. 

Gen.  Sheridan  was  put  in  command  of  this  Indian  country,  and 
ELi?rived  at  Leavenworth,  whore  Cjister  was  tried,  just  after  sen* 


GEN.  PHILIP  H.  SHERIDAN. 


CALIFORNIA  JOE. 


tence  was  passed;  not  a  word  could  lie  say  of  trial  or  sentence; 
etiquette  prevented  him;  but  he  placed  his  suite  of  apartments, 
reserved  for  him  as  department  commander,  at  Custer's  disposal. 
But  as  spring  came  on,  and  with  it  the  Indian  campaign,  Custer 
could  not  bear  to  see  the  regiment  depart  for  active  service  while 
he  was  left  behind;  so  he  returned  to  Monroe,  Michigan,  where 
his  boyhood  had  been  passed  at  his  sister's  house,  and  where  he 
had  met  and  married  his  wife. 

While  he  tried  to  kill  time  here,  and,  being  of  a  disposition  in- 
clined to  make  the  best  of  things,  doubtless  succeeded,  his  com- 
rades on  the  plains,  trying  to  kill  Indians,  were  less  fortunate. 
The  campaign  of  the  spring  and  summer  of  1868  was  as  great  a 
failure  as  that  of  the  previous  year.  Even  in  his  short  experi- 
ence, Custer  had  shown  himself  good  material  for  an  Indian  fight- 
er, and  early  in  the  fall  he  received  a  telegram  from  Gen.  Sheri- 
dan, asking  him  to  come  at  once  to  join  his  regiment,  on  the 
strength  of  an  application  for  him  made  by  Gens.  Sherman  and 
Sheridan,  and  nearly  all  the  officers  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 
Leaving  at  once,  he  was  overtaken  by  a  despatch  from  the  adju- 
tant general,  directing  him  to  report  to  Gen.  Sheridan;  the  au- 
thorities had  yielded  to  the  necessity  of  the  case. 

CALIFORNIA  JOE. 

After  reporting  as  ordered,  he  proceeded  to  the  camp  of  his 
regiment,  thirty  miles  southeast  of  Fort  Dodge.  Finding  that 
there  were  many  scoutpi  attached  to  the  various  bodies  of  cavalry 
into  which  the  main  force  had  been  divided,  and  that  these  acted 
independently  of  each  other,  he  decided  to  organize  them  into 
a  special  detachment,  under  the  command  of  one  of  their  own 
number.  The  next  thing  was  the  selection  of  such  a  chief,  a  task 
by  no  means  easy  to  the  officer  unacquainted  with  the  compara- 
tive merits  of  the  men.  One  attracted  his  attention :  a  man  of 
forty  or  more  years,  his  well-proportioned  figure  more  than  six 
feet  high;  a  huge  sombrero  crowned  the  head,  the  natural  cover- 
ing of  which  floated  in  luxuriant  dark  curls  to  the  shoulders; 
the  pleasant,  intelligent  face  was  half  hidden  by  a  long  brown 
beard  and  moustache,  but  the  kindly  black  eye  was  not  obscured, 
even  by  the  clouds  of  smoke  that  issued  from  his  constant  com- 
panion, a  stubby  briarwood  pipe.  California  Joe  was  the 
name  by  which  he  was  known,  and  no  effort  has  succeeded  in  as- 
certaining any  other.  This  was  the  man  whom  Custer  now 
32 


322 


CALIFORNIA  JOE. 


appointed  chief  of  the  scouts,  and  a  short  account  of  the  experi- 
ence which  fitted  him  for  the  position  will  not  be  out  of  place. 

From  Kentucky,  in  1849,  a  party  of  sixty -five  adventurers  set 
out  towards  the  gold-fields  of  California.  Not  knowing  the  dan- 
gers of  the  plains,  they  slept  night  after  night  without  a  guard. 
The  result  need  hardly  be  told.  Two  hundred  Indians  crept 
stealthily  into  the  silent  camp,  only  announcing  their  presence 
by  the  dull  crash  of  the  tomahawk,  as  it  cleft  the  skull  of  a  slum- 
berer.  A  woman  and  two  little  boys  were  among  the  sixty-three 
victims,  while  Joe,  the  husband  and  father,  sorely  wounded,  es- 
caped after  enduring  almost  incredible  hardships  to  Port  Lyon. 
But  he  had  started  out  to  reach  the  state  from  which  he  took  his 
name,  and  in  less  than  two,  months  he  was  ready  to  continue  his 
journey.  But  in  spite  of  the  constant-  watch  which  was  kept, 
the  little  party  was  attacked^  two  men  were  killed,  and  the  third 
taken  prisoner.  The  bravest  may  well  tremble  at  the  fate  which 
now  awaited  California  Joe  ;  and  he  made  strenuous  eiforts  to 
avoid  it  by  compelling  them  to  kill  him  at  once.  His  struggles, 
his  writhings,  his  cries  were  alike  unheeded,  for  they  knew  he 
was  too  firmly  bound  to  escape,  and  thought  no  help  was  near 
him. 

One  of  the  chiefs  cut  off  the  outer  rim  of  each  of  Joe^s  ears  and 
placed  the  pieces  in  his  belt.  The  fire  was  kindled  a  short  dis- 
tance from  his  feet,  being  thus  placed  that  the  torture  might  be 
prolonged  *  but  as  the  flames  arose,  and  were  reflected  from  the 
clouds,  that  which  was  meant  to  be  torment  became  a  means  of 
bringing  help,  for  a  party  of  fifty  trappers,  encamped  less  than 
half  a  mile  away,  saw  the  reflection  in  the  sky,  and  guided  to 
the  exact  spot  by  Joe's  lusty  yells,  put  the  Indians  to  flight  and 
rescued  the  prisoner. 

A  peaceful  life  followed  this  adventure,  lasting  for  more  than 
a  year;  spent  in  trapping  with  his  rescuers.  More  than  one  ro- 
mantic story  of  the  border  is  remembered  in  connection  with  his 
name,  of  which  the  recovery  of  little  Maggie  Eeynolds  is  perhaps 
most  charming.  The  eleven  year  old  daughter  of  a  hardy  trap- 
per, she  left  her  home  on  the  Yellowstone  one  morning,  as  she  had 
often  done  before,  for  a  hunt.  JSTight  came,  but  Maggie  had  not 
returned.  Day  after  day  passed,  and  the  search  which  they  in- 
stituted was  fruitless.  They  could  only  guess  what  had  befallea 
her. 

Months  had  passed  awj^y,  and  to  the  little  cabin  came  Califor- 
V 


CALIFORNIA  JOE. 


323 


nia  Joe,  who  was  then  trapping  near  by.  To  him  the  story  was 
told,  but  when  they  suggested  that  she  had  been  devoured  by 
some  wild  beast,  he  shook  his  head : 

"  ril  bet  a  silver  fox's  skin  that  that  ar  gal  is  now  with  them 
Harnal  Cheyennes.    I  beared  thar  was  a  white  face  with  'em/' 

The  mother's  heart  stood  still ;  such  a  captivity  was  worse  than 
death  for  her  child. 

Ain't  thar  any  way  ter  git  her  out  of  their  clutches  ?" 

^*Yer  may  just  bet  thar  is,  and  I'll  do  it  myself." 

A  judicious  supply  of  fire-water  furnished  to  four  Indians,  with 
the  promise  of  more,  secured  their  services.  A  large  village  of 
their  tribe  was  sought  and  entered,  their  presence  not  exciting 
any  alarm.  Were  they  not  Cheyennes  ?  To  the  little  pale-face, 
who  served  a  squaw,  cross  and  exacting,  like  all  Indian  women, 
because  so  treated  herself,  they  whispered  of  a  canoe,  where  the 
thick  forest  overhung  the  yellow  Missouri;  of  the  quiet  of  mid- 
night; of  the  hope  of  reaching  home.  More  noiselessly  than  the 
antelope  bounds  over  the  thick  grass  of  the  prairies  did  the  girl 
leave  the  camp,  escaping  unheard  by  the  squaw  at  whose  side  she 
slept.  Now  the  image  of  the  morn  wavered  upon  the  surface  of 
the  water,  rippled  by  the  breeze,  and  slipping,  sliding,  clambering 
down  the  bank  where  only  the  thick  roots  held  the  sandy  soil 
from  the  river,  she  leaped  into  the  dusky  arms  outstretched  to  re- 
ceive her,  and  was  soon  safe  at  home.  As  the  story  is  sometimes 
told,  Maggie  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  the  man  who  had 
planned  her  rescue ;  but  this  is  by  no  means  certain. 

He  attained  considerable  reputation  during  the  war,  being  es' 
teemed  the  most  skillful  marksman  in  Berdan's  sharpshooters. 
For  several  years  after  the  war  he  was  attached  to  Gen.  Curtis' 
command,  and  finally,  as  we  have  seen,  was  appointed  chief  of 
scouts  by  Custer.  The  close  of  the  first  interview  after  the  ap- 
pointment was  announced,  is  characteristic  of  both. 

See  hyar,  Gineral,  in  order  that  we  hev  no  misonderstandin', 
I'd  jest  like  to  ask  yer  a  few  questions." 

"Certainly,  Joe,"  answered  the  officer,  sniffing  the  fun  from 
afar. 

"  Air  you  an  ambulance  man,  or  a  boss  man?" 
"What  do  you  mean?    I  don't  understand  your  question." 
"  I  mean,  do  you  b'lieve  in  ketchin'  Injuns  in  ambulances  or  on 
hoBS-back  ?" 

"  Well,  Joe,  I  believe  in  catching  Indians  wherever  we  can  find 


j24 


CALIFURJSIA  JOE, 


them,  whether  they  are  found  in  ambulances  or  on  horse-back/' 
"  That  ain't  what  Tm  drivin^  at.  S'pose  you're  after  Injuns  and 
really  want  to  hev  a  tussle  with  'em,  would  ye  start  after  ^em  on 


CALIFORNIA  JDE. 

L.,oS-backj  or  would  ye  climb  into  an  ambulance  and  be  hauled 
after  'em  ?  That's  the  p'int  I'm  h^adin'  fur/' 

"  Weli,  Joe,  if  I  really  desired  to  catch  them,  I  would  prefer 
the  horseback  method ;  but  if  I  wished  them  to  catch  me,  T'i 
ftdopt  the  ambulance  system  of  attack/' 


CALIFORNIA  JOE. 


3^5 


Joe^s  rugged  features  beamed  with  satisfaction  as  he  answered  : 
YouVe  hit  the  nail  squar^  on  the  head.  Tve  been  with  'em 
on  the  plains  whar'  they  started  out  after  the  Injuns  on  wheels, 
jist  as  ef  they  was  agoin^  to  a  town  funeral  in  the  states,  and  they 
stood  about  as  many  chances  of  ketchin'  Injuns  as  a  six-mule 
team  would  uv  ketchin'  a  pack  of  thievin'  Kiotees,  — jist  as 
much." 

Probably  from  sheer  pleasure  at  finding  his  new  superior  a 
man  so  after  his  own  heart,  Joe  improved  his  opportunities  by 
getting  drunk  that  very  night.  This  was  a  fault  with  which 
Custer  had  no  patience,  and  the  offender  was  degraded  the  next 
day  from  the  rank  of  chief  of  scouts  to  that  of  simple  scout;  in 
which  capacity  he  remained  with  Custer  for  the  rest  of  the  cam- 
paign, and  did  good  service. 

The  terrible  fight  with  a  panther,  which  left  scars  upon  him  to 
ohe  day  of  his  death;  the  timely  bullet  which  saved  his  friend, 
struggling  unarmed  with  a  burly  Indian  who  had  crept  upon  him 
unawares;  many  a  bold  scouting  expedition ;  must  all  remain  un- 
told. Volunteering  his  services  to  Gen.  Crook  in  1876,  he  be- 
came disgusted  with  that  officer.  ^^He  won't  furnish  pie  to  his 
men,"  urged  Joe,  with  offended  dignity.  But  dignity,  sense  of 
injury,  desire  of  remonstrating,  resolution  to  hold  aloof,  all  van- 
ished before  the  potent  charm  of  a  certain  black  bottle,  that  con- 
tained something  better  than  pie.  At  any  rate  such  was  Joe's 
opinion  of  its  contents. 

But  though  the  briarwood  pipe  seldom  left  his  lips,  it  did  not 
make  him  a  silent  man«  JS"otable  even  among  scouts,  who  are 
never  taciturn  when  off  duty,  Joe's  silence  was  a  thing  unknown. 
His  partner,"  the  friend  whose  life  he  had  saved,  rarely  ut- 
tered a  word,  and  as  Jack  Sprat  and  his  wife  divided  the  meat, 
Joe  and  his  friend  entertained  each  other.  Joe  was  killed  by  an 
unknown  man  early  in  December,  1876;  the  reason  for  the  act 
being  still  a  mystery. 

Little  of  interest  was  done  for  a  month  after  Custer  rejoined 
his  command.  The  regiment  had  lost  many  of  its  old  men  by 
desertion  since  the  commander's  court-martial,  and  the  green  re- 
cruits could  not  ride  or  shoot.  Considerable  time  must  be  spent 
in  training  the  men  for  their  work;  and  it  was  not  until  the  mid- 
dle of  November  that  the  regiment  was  fit  for  service  among  the 
Indians.  According  to  the  system  that  had  been  pursued,  it  was 
oow  time  for  going  into  winter  quarters,  to  remain  completely 


326 


GENERAL  QEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


inactive  until  spring ;  but  that  plan  was  now  changed.  Fighting 
only  in  the  summer,  when  the  Indians  had  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing forage  and  game,  was  practically  giving  them  choice  of  time ; 
but  in  winter,  so  scant  were  their  supplies  that  many  of  their 
ponies  Often  died  of  actual  starvation,  and  several  weeks  of  good 
grazing  in  the  spring  were  required  to  restore  them  to  a  suitable 
condition  for  battle,  pursuit  and  flight.  A  maxim  of  the  art  of 
war  directs  the  soldier  to  do  that  which  the  enemy  does  not  ex- 
pect or  desire ;  this  winter  campaign  would  carry  this  out  to  the 
letter,  and  so  careful  preparations  were  made  for  a  descent  upon 
the  Indians  in  the  depth  of  the  season. 

Four  hundred  wagons,  with  a  guard  of  infantry,  and  thirteen 
friendly  Osages  as  scouts,  accompanied  the  Seventh  Cavalry  to 
Camp  Supply,  as  the  new  station  was  named  3  the  expedition 
being  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Sully.  Custer  chafed  under 
the  restraint  which  the  extreme  caution  of  the  aged  officer  im- 
posed upon  him,  and  the  approach  of  Gen.  Sheridan  was  hailed 
with  joy.  They  were  to  operate  beyond  the  limit  of  Gen.  Sully's 
district,  and  he  was  therefore  relieved  from  further  command. 
Preparations  were  immediately  made  for  marching  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice  into  the  Indian  country,  and  after  six  days'  wait- 
ing came  a  brief  letter  of  instructions,  necessarily  general  in 
terms.  On  the  evening  of  the  twenty-second  of  November,  or- 
ders were  issued  to  be  in  readiness  to  move  promptly  at  day- 
break the  next  morning.  While  the  snow  fell  fast  without  the 
frail  canvas  shelters,  each  doubtless  found  time  to  pen  a  few  lines 
to  friends,  to  tell  them  of  the  proposed  expedition ;  for  besides 
the  ordinary  uncertainties  of  war,  they  could  not  tell  when  they 
would  again  be  in  communication  with  the  civilized  world. 

All  night  long  the  snow-storm  continued,  so  that  when  reveil- 
le sounded  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  the  ground  was 
covered  with  snow  to  a  depth  of  over  a  foot,  and  the  fall  had  not 
abated.  In  the  very  teeth  of  the  blinding  storm  they  marched, 
and  before  they  had  gone  many  miles  even  the  Indian  guides 
owned  that  they  had  lost  their  way.  Undeterred  by  such  diffi- 
culties, Custer  shaped  his  course  by  a  pocket  compass,  became 
his  own  guide,  and  reached  Wolf  Creek,  where  he  had  intended 
to  camp  that  afternoon.  Next  morning  at  dawn  they  started 
again,  this  time  with  a  clear  sky  overhead ;  and  a  scouting  party 
under  Major  Elliot  found  a  fresh  trail  of  a  war-party,  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  strong;  tb^  l^st  of  the  season,  probably  going 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER 


327 


home  disgusted  with  the  weather.  The  Seventh  was  in  the  heart 
of  the  Indian  country,  unperceived. 

Already  in  the  valley  of  the  Washita,  they  proceeded  on  this 
trail  by  night.  To  guard  against  surprises,  two  Osages,  on  foot, 
preceded  them  by  three  or  four  hundred  yards ;  then  the  rest  of 
the  Indians,  the  white  scouts,  including  California  Joe,  and  in 
their  midst,  Custer  himself;  at  a  distance  of  a  quarter  or  a  half 
mile  followed  the  main  body.  Perfect  silence  marked  their 
march;  and  not  a  match  was  struck,  even  to  light  a  pipe.  The 
Osages  in  front  smelled  fire,  but  it  proved  to  be  only  the  embers 
of  one  kindled  by  Indian  boys  who  had  been  herding  ponies 
during  the  day. 

Custer  now  preceded  the  whole  command,  with  the  two  Osages. 
As  they  approached  the  crest  of  each  hill,  one  of  the  guides  would, 
•according  to  the  invariable  Indian  custom,  hasten  forward  and 
peer  cautiously  over  the  hill.  This  happened  several  times, 
when  at  last  the  Osage  placed  his  hand  above  his  eyes,  as  if  look- 
ing intently  at  some  object,  and  then  crept  stealthily  back  to  the 
leader. 

^^"What  is  it?^'  he  asked,  eagerly. 
Heaps  Injuns  down  there, was  the  reply,  as  the  guide  point- 
ed to  the  valley  just  beyond  the  hiil. 

Crouching  low,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  in  the  moonlight  against 
the  horizon,  Custer  and  the  Indian  crept  to  the  crest  of  the  hill, 
whence  the  soldier  could  see  a  large  body  of  some  kind  of  ani- 
mals at  a  distance  which  he  estimated  at  half  a  mile  ;  but  he 
could  not  tell  but  that  it  was  a  herd  of  buffalo.  Turning  to  the 
guide,  he  asked : 

^^Why  do  you  think  they  are  Indians?^' 
Me  hear  dog  bark.^^ 

In  a  moment,  as  if  to  confirm  his  words,  a  dog  was  heard  bark- 
ing in  the  heavy  timber  to  the  right  of  the  group,  and  the  tinkle 
of  a  bell  showed  that  their  ponies  were  near  by.  Another  sound, 
the  cry  of  an  infant,  awakened  the  soldier's  regret  that  he  was 
forced  by  the  atrocity  of  his  enemy's  murders  and  depredations 
to  engage  in  a  war  in  which  the  women  and  children  could  not 
be  protected. 

"  The  bravest  are  tlie  tenderest, 
The  loving  are  the  daring." 

Halting  here,  all  necessary  arrangements  were  made  for  the 
attack.    Few  attempted  to  sleep,  so  bitterly  cold  was  the  night. 


328 


aENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


SO  comfortless  their  fireless,  shelterless  condition.  Prom  group 
to  group,  crouching  or  lying  upon  the  frozen  snow,  went  Custer. 

"Fight!''  said  California  Joe,  as  the  leader  approached  the 
scouts;  "I  haven't  nary  doubt  concernm'  that  part  of  the  busi- 
ness; what  Tve  been  tryin'  to  git  through  my  top-knot  all 
night  is  whether  we'll  run  against  more'n  we  bargain  for." 

"  Then  you  don't  think  that  the  Indians  will  run  away,  Joe?  " 

"Eun  away  ?  How  in  creation  kin  Injuns  or  anybody  else  run 
away  when  we'll  have  them  clean  surrounded  by  daylight?" 

"  Well,  suppose  then  that  we  succeed  in  surrounding  the  vil- 
lage, do  you  think  we  can  hold  our  own  against  the  Indians  ? " 

"That's  the  very  p'int  that's  been  botherin'  me  ever  sence  we 
planted  ourselves  down  here,  and  the  onl}^  conclusion  I  kin  come 
to  is  that  it's  purty  apt  to  be  one  thing  or  t'other;  if  we  jump 
these  Injuns  at  daylight,  we're  either  goin'  to  make  a  spoon  or 
spile  a  horn,  and  that's  my  candid  judgment,  sure.  One  thing's 
sartin;  ef  them  Injuns  don't  hyar  anything  of  us  till  we  open  on 
'em  at  daylight,  they'll  be  the  most  powerful  'stonished  red-skins 
that's  been  in  these  parts  lately— they  will,  sure.  An'  ef  we  git 
the  bulge  on  'em  and  keep  a  puttin'  it  to  'em  pretty  lively  like, 
we'll  sweep  the  platter — thar  won't  be  nary  a  trick  left  for  'em. 
As  the  deal  stands  now,  we  hold  the  keards  and  are  holdin'  over 
^em;  they've  got  to  straddle  our  blind  or  throw  up  their  hands. 
Howsomever,  there's  a  mighty  sight  in  the  draw." 

The  first  faint  streaks  of  light  appeared  in  the  east,  and  all  was 
in  readiness  for  the  advance.  In  spite  of  the  freezing  cold,  over- 
coats were  removed,  that  the  men  might  be  free  in  their  move- 
ments. Two  detachments  were  sent,  one  each  way  round,  to  attack 
the  village  from  the  other  side,  the  signal  being  the  first  notes 
of  "  Garry  Owen."  Communication  with  the  two  divisions  that 
had  gone  to  the  other  side  of  the  village  was  impossible,  and  the 
commander  must  .guess  at  their  readiness.  So  still  was  the  vil- 
lage as  they  approached,  that  he  feared  a  repetition  of  Hancock's 
experience ;  but  a  single  rifle  shot,  that  rang  sharp  and  clear  from 
the  further  side  of  the  town,  and  the  rollicking  notes  of  the  air 
selected  as  the  signal,  aroused  the  whole  village  in  an  instant. 
Prom  all  sides  the  soldiers  dashed,  shouting,  into  the  town;  the 
Indians  realized  the  situation  at  once,  and  arming  in  a  moment's 
time,  sought  the  shelter  of  the  nearest  trees  and  the  neighboring 
stream,  whence  they  poured  shot  upon  the  troops.  In  answer 
to  the  exnlimt  cheers  of  the  soldiers  came  the  wild  war-whoop 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


OoiJ  GENEllAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 

of  the  savages;  but  In  a  few  moments  the  village  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  troops. 

Before  the  victory  could  be  called  complete,  however,  the  In- 
dians must  be  driven  off.  This  was  a  work  of  more  difficulty,  but 
slowly  and  steadily  they  were  driven  from  behind  the  trees.  Post- 
ing themselves  in  the  ravines,  they  fired  from  an  almost  perfect 
shelter,  until  the  sharp-shooters  that  Custer  had  recently  trained 
picked  them  off  as  they  exposed  themselves  to  get  a  shot.  In- 
side the  lodges  were  the  Indian  women,  who  now  gave  vent  to 
their  desj)air  by  singing  the  death-song;  and  the  wild,  unmusical 
lament  added  to  the  din.    A  Mexican  interpreter,  Romero,  or 

Eomeo/^  was  sent  to  reassure  them  with  the  promise  that  they 
would  be  unharmed  and  kindly  treated  ;  but  it  was  difficult  to 
obtain  a  hearing  froxn  the  terrified  creatures. 

At  ten  o^clock  the  fight  was  still  raging.  California  Joe  con- 
cluded to  start  out  on  his  own  account,  and  after  moving  about 
for  {sometime  in  what  Gen.  Custer  calls  a  promiscuous  and  in- 
dependent manner,  obtained  permission  to  collect  and  drive  in  a 
large  herd  of 'ponies  that  was  seen  near  by.  In  the  meantime  a 
Qumber  of  Indians  had  been  noticed,  collected  on  a  knoll  about 
a  mile  away,  and  as  Joe  came  into  camp  with  two  squaw  prison- 
ers assisting  him  with  his  drove  of  three  hundred  ponies,  Custer 
saw  that  the  number  of  the  enemy  outside  the  lines  had  grown 
to  nearly  a  hundred.  All  were  mounted  warriors,  fully  armed, 
and  their  force  was  constantly  increasing.  At  first,  he  had 
thought  that  a  few  might  have  escaped  from  the  village,  but  this 
army  could  not  have  done  so,  nor  would  they  huTe  been  so  com- 
pletely equipped.  A  squaw,  being  questioned,  gave  the  aston- 
ishing and  by  no  means  pleasing  information  that  this  was  but 
one  of  a  group  of  villages ;  that  besides  this  of  the  Cheyennes, 
there  was  another  of  the  same  tribe,  and  those  of  the  Arapahoes, 
Eiowas,  Comanches  and  Apaches  clustered  in  the  timbered  val- 
ley, the  farthest  being  less  than  ten  miles  off. 

There  was  no  doubt  of  an  attack  from  a  greatly  superior  force 
upon  the  troops,  exhausted  by  their  long  fight ;  and  no  time  was 
lost  in  preparing  to  repel  it.  A  fresh  supply  of  ammunition  was 
issued,  and  the  fight  soon  began  at  all  points  of  the  circle  which 
now  formed  the  line  of  battle,  and  of  which  the  village  was  the 
center.  The  Indians  fought  with  an  excessive  caution,rare,  when 
numerical  superiority  was  so  great  as  at  this  time,  but  the  burn- 
ing of  the  village  seemed  to  arouse  them  to  new  fury.    The  tim- 


331 


ber  and  the  configuration  of  the  ground,  however,  enabled  Custer 
to  use  his  men  to  the  better  advantage,  and  he  finally  judged  that 
offensive  measures  might  be  adopted.  Step  by  step  the  Indians 
H  were  driven  from  ths  field,  every  inch  of  ground  contested  ;  and 
it  was  not  until  three  o^ clock  in  the  afternoon  that  they  were 
forced  to  yield. 

It  was  difficult  to  know  how  to  dispose  of  the  spoils  of  war ' 
the  village,  with  all  that  was  in  it,  had  been  burned,  but  more 
than  sixty  squaws  and  children  were  their  prisoners,  and  nearly 


THE  MESSENGER  OF  DEFEAT. 


Bine  hundred  poniCS  were  in  their  possession.  The  latter  were 
too  tempting  to  man^uding  parties,  were  needed  by  the  Indians, 
but  useless  to  the  troops ;  to  keep  or  abandon  them  was  equally 
dangerou:1,  SO  all  wer  3  shot,  except  those  necessary  for  the  pris- 
oners. When  EomeO  announced  to  the  squaws  that  they  would 
be  kindlj  treated  during  the  march,  they  gathered  around  the 
*^big  chicf/^  as  the  ndians  style  a  commanding  officer,  and 
obliged  him  to  go  through  much  handshaking.  One  squaw  told 
him  that  her  people  had  returned  the  night  before  with  white 
scalps  and  plunder^  and  celebrated  their  success  by  getting 
drunk.    She  also  insisted  upon  his  marrying  a  young  girl  of  the 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CtJSTEB. 


333 


tribe,  and  performed  the  whole  Indian  ceremony  before  the  in- 
terpreter could  explain  to  Custer  what  she  was  doing. 

It  was  necessary  to  frighten  the  warriors  in  the  other  villages, 
to  deter  them  from  making  an  attack;  then,  with  band  playing, 
and  colors  flying,  he  marched  straight  down  the  river  towards 
the  threatening  parties  assembled  at  various  points.  The  move- 
ment had  the  desired  effect,  for  the  Indians  turned  and  fled  in 
confusion ;  the  lesson  of  the  attack  on  the  Cheyenne  village  need- 
ed no  immediate  repetition.  Messengers  had  carried  the  doleful 
news  in  every  direction. 

California  Joe  and  another  scout  were  sent  with  a  despatch  to 
Gen.  Sheridan,  giving  report  of  the  battle ;  and  returned  safely  to 
the  regiment  before  it  reached  Camp  Supply.  The  return  despatch 
repaid  the  Seventh  for  the  hardships  of  the  march,  and  when  the 
same  officer  further  honored  them  by  a  review,  a  great  conde 
scension  in  military  etiquette,  since  Sheridan  was  a  major-gen- 
eral, and  this  but  a  single  regiment,  their  proud  pleasure  knew  no 
bounds. 

One  hundred  and  three  warriors  Had  been  killed,  and  the 
amount  of  plunder  that  fell  into  their  hands  seems  almost  incred- 
ible, until  we  reflect  that  this  was  the  preparation  made  for  win- 
ter.  Gen.  Custer^  s  Indian  scouts  celebrated  the  victory  in  their 
own  manner  by  a  war-dance  in  the  most  approved  style,  and  the 
iBoldiers  had  the  o  pportunity  to  witness  the  weird  scene  at  night 
by  firelight. 

But  this  was  only  the  beginning  of  the  campaign,  and  five  days 
after  the  review  mentioned,  the  regiment  again  set  out  for  the 
Washita,  accompanied  by  Gen.  Sheridan  and  his  stafl",  and  the 
Nineteenth  Kansas  Volunteer  Cavalry,  raised  especially  for  In- 
dian hostilities ;  the  entire  force  numbering  about  fifteen  hun- 
dred men.  Thirty  days^  rations  were  provided,  and  the  force 
presented  a  formidable  a^rray. 

I'd  just  like  to  seethe  streaked  countenances  of  Satanta,  Med- 
cine  Arrow,  Lone  Wolf,  and  a  few  others  of  ^em,  when  they 
ketch  the  fust  glimpse  of  the  outfit.  They^ll  think  we^re  comin^ 
to  spend  an  evenin^  with  ^em  sure,  and  hev  brought  our  knittin' 
with  us.  One  look^ll  satisfy  ^em,  and  thar^ll  be  some  of  the  durnd- 
est  kickin^  out  over  these  plains  that  ever  war  heer^n  tell  of.  One 
good  thing,  it's  goin'  to  come  as  nigh  killin'  of  'em  to  start  'em 
out  at  this  time  of  year  as  ef  we  hed  an  out  and  out  scrummage 
with  'em.    The  way  I  looks  at  it  they  hev  just  this  ch'ice  :  them 


GENEAAL  CliiiOAGE  A.  CUlSTEa. 


LONE  WOLF;  HEAD  CHIEF  OF  THE  EIOWAS. 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CtJSTEft. 


as  don^t  like  bein'  shot  to  death  kin  take  ther  chances  at  ireez- 
in/ 

The  regiment  reached  the  battle  ground  without  adventure,  and 
found  that  they  had  plunged  into  a  hornet^s  nest  when  they  had 
^  attacked  the  Cheyennes.  The  whole  forest,  for  twelve  miles,  was 
a  line  of  Indian  villages,  six  hundred  lodges  having  been  within 
five  miles  of  the  battle;  now  deserted,  their  inhabitants  having 
fled  in  the  utmost  confasion,  leaving  everything  behind. 

As  they  continued  the  march  down  the  "Washita  to  Port  Cobb, 
a  despatch  was  brought  by  Kiowa  Indians,  under  Satanta  and 
Lone  Wolf,  stating  that  all  the  tribes  for  twenty  miles  from  the 
station  were  friendly.  Custer  mistrusted  the  intentions  of  a 
large  party  that  came  armed  and  painted  for  war,  but  was  obli- 
ged to  follow  orders.  The  chiefs  agreed  to  ride  with  him  to  Port 
Cobb,  assuring  him  that  their  villages  would  encamp  near  by,  to 
prove  that  they  held  no  communication  with  the  hostile  tribes. 
As  chief  after  chief,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  left  the  column 
the  next  day,  Custer  felt  his  suspicions  confirmed.  He  was  now 
sure  that  the  lodges  were  to  be  moved  away  from,  instead  of  to- 
ward Port  Cobb,  and  resolved  to  prevent  it.  When  all  the  min- 
or chiefs  had  gone,  Satanta  and  Lone  Wolf  were  seized  as  prison- 
ers and  hostages ;  a  little  later,  by  Gen.  Sheridan^s  orders,  a  mes- 
sage was  sent  to  the  Kiowas  that  if  their  bands  were  not  in  camp 
at  sunset  of  the  next  day,  the  two  chiefs  would  be  hanged  at  that 
hour.  The  tribe  that  had  moved  at  such  an  imperceptible  rate 
became  alarmed,  and  were  under  the  guns  of  Port  Cobb  long  be- 
fore th©  designated  time. 

The  Arapahoes  remained  to  be  dealt  with,  but  Custer,  with 
forty  men,  went  to  their  village  and  induced  them  to  settle  peace- 
fully upon  their  reservation.  Such  was  the  estimation  in  which 
this  journey  was  held  than  one  of  the  officers  of  his  command,  in 
bidding  him  good-bye,  contrived  to  slip  into  his  hand  a  small 
pocket  derringer,  loaded;  with  the  remark: 

You  had  better  take  it.  General ;  it  may  prove  useful  to  you." 

It  was  intended,  in  case  of  his  being  captured  and  deprived  of 
his  more  formidable  weapons,  to  enable  him  to  escape  torture  by 
becoming  his  own  executioner.  He  returned  in  safety  however, 
having  accomplished  his  purpose,  and  was  ready,  early  in  March, 
1869,  to  go  in  search  of  the  Cheyennes  who  had  not  been  in  the 
Tillage  on  the  W  ashita. 

difficulty  was  experienced  in  finding  the  trail  of  the  band^ 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


33? 


and  as  the  Indians,  when  not  pursued,  move  with  the  laziest 
sort  of  deliberation,  the  cavalry  overtook  them,  although  the^^ 
had  had  a  start  of  a  month.  There  were  nearly  three  hundree. 
lodges  in  the  village  and  near  it,  sheltering  the  whole  Cheyenne 
tribe;  but  the  safety  of  two  white  women,  who  were  known  to  be 
held  captives  in  their  power,  prevented  Custer  from  making  an 
attack.  Pour  chiefs,  Big-Head,  Dull  Knife,  and  two  others  were 
captured  and  oifered  in  exchange ;  but  the  Indians  would  make 
no  definite  answer.  Finally  Custer  sent  one  as  messenger  to  say 
that  if  by  sunset  the  next  day  the  women  were  not  delivered  up 
to  him,  he  would  hang  his  captives  to  a  certain  tree  which  he 
designated.  The  ropes  were  ready,  and  the  limb  selected  when 
the  Cheyenne's  brought  in  the  women,  whom  they  did  not  think 
of  equal  importance  with  chiefs  as  hostages. 

Custer  had  not  offered  an  unconditional  exchange  of  prisoners ; 
■^he  Cheyennes  must  return  to  their  reservation.  Seeing  that  no 
other  terms  could  be  obtained,  and  knowing  too  well  what  the 
'^Eig  Yellow  Chief  could  do,  they  promised  to  comply  with  his 
demands  as  soon  as  their  ponies  were  in  condition  for  marching, 
and  never  again  to  go  upon  the  war-path.  For  years  after  Custer's 
death  this  promise  was  still  unbroken ;  but  until  the  United  States 
government  keeps  faith  with  the  Indians  we  cannot  expect  peace. 
The  campaign  in  the  Indian  Territory  was  now  at  an  end,  and  the 
summer  could  be  spent  in  rest.  .  Encamped  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Fort  Hay,  Custer's  life  was  now  a  perfect  round  of  pleasur- 
able excitement.  Tourists  from  the  east  or  from  Europe  often 
came  to  see  the  successful  Indian  fighter,  and  hunting  excursions 
took  place  nearly  every  week.  The  Indians  were  really  and 
truly  at  peace,  cowed  by  his  successes  ;  the  campaign  had  made 
them  thoroughly  respect  him. 

The  succeeding  winter  was  spent  at  Leavenworth,  where  he 
began  to  write  his  ^'War  Memoirs,''  and  the  spring  and  summer  of 
1870  were  passed  like  the  same  seasons  of  the  previous  year. 
The  removal  of  his  regiment  that  fall  to  the  east  of  the  Missis- 
sippi gave  a  quieter  and  less  pleasant  life,  the  monotony  of  which 
was  broken  only  once. 

"When,  in  1872,  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis  visited  the  United 
States,  it  was  desired  to  show  him  a  buffalo  hunt,  and  Custer  was 
chosen  to  escort  him  to  the  plains.  The  Russian  was  delighted 
with  his  hunt  and  with  Custer,  whom  he  saw  for  the  first  time  in 
the  picturesque  buck-skin  hunting-shirt  which  the  general  alwayg 


338 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


wor©  Oil  the  plains ;  and  insisted  that  he  must  accompany  the 
party  on  the  tour  through  the  west. 

But,  however  pleasant  this  might  be,  his  next  orders  delighted 
Custer  still  more.  In  March,  1873,  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  or- 
dered to  Dakota,  and  all  the  officers,  scattered  about  among  dif- 


A  BUTFALO  HUOT. 

ferent  posts,  rejoiced  at  the  news.   It  meant  business,  calling 
them  out  in  a  body,  and  when  they  met  at  Memphis,  all  were  glad 
to  see  each  other  and  anxious  for  work. 
The  railroad  is  the  great  conqueror  of  the  Indian.   ''No  on© 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


339 


measure/^  says  Custer  himself,  "  so  quickly  and  effectually  frees 
a  country  from  the  horrors  and  devastations  of  Indian  wars  and 
Indian  depredations  as  the  building  and  successful  operation  of  a 
railroad  through  the  region  overrun.  The  Northern  Pacific  was 
to  be  built,  and  the  government  had  assigned  troops  to  protect 
it  from  the  Sioux.  On  this  expedition,  known  as  the  Yellowstone, 
Custer's  daily  practice  was  to  precede  the  main  command  escort- 
ing the  surveyors  and  engineers,  and  the  heavily  laden  wagons, 
and  mark  out  the  best  road,  thus  avoiding  the  serious  delays  that 
had  occurred  before  th  5  adoption  of  this  plan. 

On  the  morning  of  August  4th,  the  Arickaree  scout  and  guide. 
Bloody  Knife,  discovered  fresh  signs  of  Indians ;  nineteen  had 
been  prowling  around  the  camp  on  the  previous  night,  and  had 
gone  away,  traveling  in  the  same  direction  in  which  the  whites 
were  marching.  This,  however,  created  no  alarm,  as  the  pioneei 
party  numbered  ninety,  and  they  felt  sure  that  the  Indians  would 
not  attack  so  great  a  force. 

Halting  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  high  bluffs  bordering  the  Yellow- 
stone  valley,  the  horses  were  watered,  and  then  picketed  out  to 
graze;  half  a  dozen  pickets  were  posted  on  the  open  plain  be- 
j^ond,  and  the  remainder  of  the  party  prepared  for  solid  comfort. 
On  the  grass  beneath  a  wide-spreading  cottonwood  lay  Gen.  Cus- 
ter, with  his  saddle  and  buckskin  coat  for  a  pillow;  boots  off- 
cravat  untied,  collar  open,  he  was  fully" prepared  to  enjoy  hi»a 
out-door  nap.  Beside  him  lay  his  brother.  Col.  Custer,  and  not 
far  off  W3re  the  other  three  officers,  Moylan,  Calhoun  and  Var 
num,  similarly  prepared  for  the  same  pleasure.  Around  them  lay 
the  men,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  pickets  were  the  only  mem- 
bers of  the  j^'Hy  not  asleep.  Suddenly  came  the  cry  of  In- 
dians!'' and  the  sharp  crack  of  the  sentries'  rifles  followed  the 
cry.  Officers  and  men  sprang  to  their  feet,  catching  up  the  rifles, 
which,  as  a  matter  of  habit,  had  been  placed  within  easy  reach 

"Eun  to  your  horses,  men;  run  to  your  houses !"  shouted  the 
general,  as  he  saw  that  the  Indians  intended  to  stampede  the  an- 
imals and  then  attack  the  soldiers. 

Springing  to  their  saddles,  they  rode  headlong  forward  to 
where  half  a  dozen  Sioux  warriors  were  galloping  up  and  down 
before  them,  evidently  to  decoy  them  onward  to  a  point  where  a 
large  body  lay  in  ambush.  Leaving  Moylan  with  the  main  force 
as  a  reserve,  Gen.  Custer,  with  his  brother,  Calhoun  and  twenty 
troopers,  rode  forward  after  the  retreating  Sioux.    There  was 


34U 


6ENEBAL  GEORGB  A*  OVSTIIE. 


341 


no  hope  of  overtaking  them,  such  was  the  fleetness  of  their  po- 
nies, but  they  did  not  choose  to  go  at  full  speed,  Custer  rode 
forward,  accompanied  only  by  an  orderly,  and  made  the  sign  for 
a  parley,  but  the  Indians  would  not  respond.  His  orderly  was 
then  sent  back  to  warn  Col.  Custer  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  near 
the  heavy  bushes  to  the  left;  the  message  was  delivered,  and  the 
man  on  his  way  back  to  the  general,  when  the  savages  in  front 
advanced  as  if  to  attack,  and  at  the  same  moment  Custer  saw 
three  or  four  hundred  Sioux  warriors  bursting  from  the  suspect- 
ed bushes.  Dashing  from  the  timber  at  full  speed,  yelling  and 
whooping  as  only  Indians  can,  they  yet  moved  forward  in  as  per- 
fect order  as  the  best  drilled  cavalry. 

"Wheeling  his  horse  suddenly  around,  and  driving  his  spurs  in- 
to its  side,  Custer  rode  for  his  life  towards  his  brother's  party; 
shouting :  Dismount  your  men,  dismount  your  men  V  with  al- 
most every  bound  of  his  horse.  It  was  a  race  on  as  it  were  two 
sides  of  a  triangle,  to  see  which  should  reach  the  troops  first, 
— Custer  or  the  mounted  Indians.  The  order  was  unheard,  but 
fortunately  Col.  Custer  had  before  this  contended  against  a  sud- 
den and  unforeseen  onslaught  of  savages,  and  gave  the  order 
Which  his  brother  would  have  given.  Nearer  and  nearer  he  drew 
to  the  little  group  of  dismounted  cavalrymen,  as,  kneeling  in  the 
grass,  with  finger  on  trigger,  they  awaited  the  enemy  approach- 
ing with  equal  rapidity.  It  seemed  but  a  moment  more,  and  the 
Sioux,  riding  as  if  "unconscious  of  their  presence,  would  have 
trampled  the  kneeling  troopers  down  to  the  earth. 

"  Don't  fire,  men,  until  I  give  the  word,  and  when  yoti  do  fii'e, 
aim  low,''  was  the  direction  whicii  the  young  officer  gave,  as  ho 
sat  on  his  horse,  calmly  awaiting  the  onset;  then: 

"  Now,  men,  let  them  have  it.'' 

And  before  the  volley  of  well-aimed  snots,  followed  quiijkly  by 
anotTier,  the  warriors  reeled  in  their  saddles  and  their  ponies  fell 
dead.  They  lo,st  confidenoain  their  power  to  trample  down  the 
little  body;  they  faltered;  they  fled  in  the  wildest  confusion.  A 
third  shower  of  balls  hastened  their  flight,  and  the  cheer  of  the 
cavalrymon  announced  their  victory  and  the  arrival  of  Kojlan 
and  the  main  force  at  the  same  time. 

Of  course,  it  was  but  a  temporary  retreat ;  the  Indians  would 
soon  return  to  the  attack,  and  preparations  must  be  made  to  re- 
jrulse  them  the  second  time.  A  natural  terrace  waste  be  used  as 
a  breastwork,  and  though  the  Indians  made  every  attempt  to  dis^ 


342 


JENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


lodge  them  and  force  them  to  tne  open  plateau,  the  men  kept 
their  position.  Finding  their  plans  foiled,  they  tried  another, 
which  was  detected  by  the  quick  eyes  of  Bloody  Knife.  Crawl- 
ing through  the  grass,  Custer  thought  they  could  hardly  mean  to 
attack  on  foot,  and  was  only  enlightened  as  to  their  intention 
when  small  columns  of  smoke  were  seen  shooting  up  all  along 
the  front. 

•^They  are  setting  fire  to  the  long  grass,  and  intend  to  burn  us 
out,^^  were  the  ominous  words  of  Bloody  Knife,  his  face  clouded 
with  anxiety.  Then,  while  his  expression  brightened,  and  a 
scornful  smile  parted  his  lips : 

The  Great  Spirit  will  not  help  our  enemies.  See,  the  grass 
refuses  to  burn.^' 

A  month  later  the  dry  grass  would  have  burned  like  tinder, 
but  now  it  was  too  green,  and  the  Indians  were  obliged  to  find 
another  mode  of  attack.  A  pathway  in  the  rear  of  the  troops 
would  have  led  the  redskins  along  the  water's  edge,  where  the 
high  bank  would  screen  them  from  observation;  so  that  the 
horses,  concealed  in  the  grove  near  the  river,  might  have  been 
stampeded.  The  design  was  fortunately  discovered,  and  the  In- 
dians soon  afterward  retreated.  This  occasioned  considerable 
surprise  at  first,  but  was  explained  when  an  immense  cloud  of 
dust  was  seen  at  a  distance,  rapidly  approaching.  Not  waiting 
to  welcome  their  comrades,  the  cavalrymen,  as  jgoonas  they  were 
certain  that  relief  was  at  hand,  were  in  their  saddles  in  a  moment 
and  dashing  after  the  enemy.  A  hot  pursuit  failed  in  its  object; 
the  fleet  and  hardy  ponies  outran  the  heavy  cavalry  horses,  and 
they  returned  to  camp  under  the  cottonwood  trees  where  they 
had  rested  in  the  morning. 

This  was  the  first  intimation  to  the  whites  that  the  Sioux  were 
on  the  war  path,  and  although  none  of  the  men  in  the  fight  were 
killed,  two  unarmed  old  men,  the  veterinary  surgeon  and  the  sut- 
ler of  the  Seventh,  were  found  dead;  they  had  strayed  from  the 
main  body  in  search  of  natural  curiosities,  as  they  were  in  the 
habit  of  doing,  and  had  been  wantonly  murdered  by  some  wan- 
dering Sioux. 

Nothing  more  was  seen  of  war  parties  during  the  remainder 
of  the  time  that  they  were  on  this  expedition,  although  Indians 
were  seen  hovering  near  for  several  days;  until  an  attack  by  the 
Sioux  under  Sitting  Bull,  at  nearly  the  end  of  their  journey, 
which  was  repulsed  without  loss.  Ordered  now  to  Fort  Abraham 


«EN£RAL  aSORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


343 


Lincoln,  Cuater  passed  some  time  in  quiet,  until  the  Black  Hills 
expedition  in  1874  again  called  him  into  the  field. 

This  unexplored  region,  that  derived  its  name  from  the  dark 
pines  that  tossed  on  the  hillsides  in  the  wind  like  the  plumes  on 
a  hearse,  had  been  ceded  to  the  Sioux  by  solemn  treaty  in  1868 ; 
but  some  Indians  came  to  a  trading  post  with  gold  dust  and  nug- 
gets, which  they  admitted  had  been  found  there,  and  the  accursed 
thirst  for  gold  drew  the  eyes  of  all  men  thither.  The  govern- 
ment decided  to  send  a  strong  detachment  to  explore  the  hills 
and  ascertain  if  gold  were  really  to  be  found  there,  and  Custer, 
with  a  force  of  over  twelve  hundred  men,  was  detailed  for  the 
duty. 

Two  weeks  after  they  set  out,  they  entered  the  Sioux  reserva- 
tion, two  hundred  and  twenty-seven  miles  from  Fort  Lincoln. 
Through  a  country  more  beautiful  than  any  they  had  ever  seen, 
they  marched,  unmolested  by  the  Indians,  who,  busily  watching 
Custer,  had  no  time  for  the  war  which  they  had  intended  to  carry 
on  in  small  parties. 

Custer's  report  represents  the  country  as  a  perfect  garden,  but 
this  was  doubted  by  those  who  had  seen  it  in  a  less  favorable 
season;  the  geologists,  too,  who  had  accompanied  him,  made  un- 
satisfactory reports.  But  the  tide  was  not  to  be  stayed.  Adven- 
turers by  hundreds  iiocked  into  the  country,  regardless  of  pro- 
hibition. The  mischief  had  been  done;  Custer's  expedition  had 
shown  the  Sioux  that  the  United  States  did  not  intend  to  keep 
the  treaty  any  longer  than  that  treaty  was  to  the  Government's 
advantage,  and  the  clouds  began  to  gather  fast  in  the  beautiful 
country  that  had  seemed  to  him  an  earthly  paradise. 

In  the  next  year,  while  Custer  and  his  command  were  resting 
peacefully  at  Fort  Lincoln,  the  identity  of  the  Sioux  who  had 
murdered  the  sutler  and  the  veterinary  surgeon  on  the  Yellow- 
stone expedition  was  proven  in  a  singular  manner.  The  mur- 
derer boasted  of  his  crime  at  the  trading-post  where  he  was 
drawing  rations  and  ammunition.  The  news  quickly  reached 
Custer,  who  sent  out  a  detachment  of  a  hundred  men  to  march  to 
the  agency.  Sealed  orders,  opened  twenty  miles  beyond  Fort 
Rice,  directed  them  to  capture  and  bring  in  the  murderer,  Eain- 
in-the-Face. 

As  the  troops  neared  the  agency  it  was  found  necessary  to 
observe  the  greatest  care,  to  prevent  the  Indians,  gathered  to 
draw  rations,  from  finding  out  the  object  of  their  expedition. 


344 


IIISOTSIIAX;  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


Captain  Yates,  in  command  ot  the  force,  succeeded  in  blinding 
the  Sioux  as  to  his  real  purpose,  and  Eain-in-the-Face  was 
thrown  completely  off  his  guard.  On  a  certain  day,  Col.  Custer  « 
was  sent,  with  five  men,  to  go  to  the  store  and  capture  the  mur- 
derer, should  he  put  in  an  appearance.  It  mwt  be  remembered 
that,  like  many  officers  of  the  Seventh,  Col.  Custer's  highest 
rank  was  only  a  brevet,  he  being  really  junior  to  Yates.  The 
cold  weather  caused  the  Indians  to  keep  their  blankets  drawn 
over  their  heads,  but  at  last  one  of  them  loosened  his,  thus  throw 
ing  off  the  disguise.  It  was  Eain-in-the-Pace.  Col.  Custer  threw 


CAPTTJEE  OP  RAIK--IN-THE-FACE. 


his  arms  around  him  and  seized  the  rifle  which  the  Indian  attemp1>- 
ed  to  grasp.  Taken  completely  by  surprise,  he  was  quickly  seem- 
red ;  his  people  were  greatly  excited,  and  numerous  speeches 
were  made  by  the  warriors  in  the  high,  monotonous  voice  they 
use.  Captain  Yates  immediately  prepared  to  repel  an  attack, 
and  found  that  such  care  was  not  unnecessary,  for  five  hundred 
Indians  gathered  around  him,  demanding  the  release  of  th© 
prisoner. 

Eain-in-the-Pace  was  taken  to  Fort  Lincoln,  and  kept  in  cap- 
tivity several  months,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  that  his  tribe 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


made  to  secure  his  freedom.  He  finaPy  made  his  escape,  and 
went  at  once  to  the  hostile  camp.  From*  that  point  he  sent  word 
that  he  had  joined  Sitting  Bull  and  was  waiting  to  revenge  him- 
self on  the  Big  Yellow  Chief  for  his  imprisonment. 

Eain-in-the-Face  was  a  warrior  of  whom  his  tribe  were  parti- 
cularly proud  on  account  of  his  powers  of  endurance.  At  the 
sun-dance,  wbei  a  gash  is  cut  under  some  of  the  sinews  of  the 
back,  immediately  under  the  shoulder  blades,  and  the  Indian 
suspended  by  a  buffalo  thong  passed  through  this  until  his  own 
weight  causes  him  to  fall,  this  young  man  had  stood  the  test 
most  successfully,  hanging  in  this  way,  exposed  to  the  burning 
summer  sun,  for  four  hours. 

Early  in  1876  it  was  determined  to  make  war  upon  the  hostiles, 
and,  probably  that  the  Indians  might  have  a  chance  of  life  and 
victory,  ample  supplies  of  arms  and  ammunition  were  distribu- 
ted to  them  through  the  agencies.  Early  in  March,  a  force  was 
sent  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Eeynolds,  accompanied  by  G-en. 
Crook,  the  department  commander,  in  person,  towards  the  Pow- 
der Eiver.  Here  Crazy  Horse's  village  v/as  attacked,  but  the 
victory  was  not  as  complete  as  it  should  have  been  made;  and 
Crazy  Horse  was  only  exasperated  by  the  destruction  of  his  pro- 
perty, while  all  his  men  and  weapons  and  nearly  all  his  ponies 
remained  to  him^  leaving  him  as  strong  as  ever  for  fighting  op- 
erations. 

Gen.  Terry  was  to  send  out,  as  soon  as  the  late  spring  of  the 
far  north  would  allow,  a  force  to  cooperate  with  Gen.Crook^s. 
Custer  was  to  be  assigned  to  the  command  of  this  column,  ac- 
cording to  the  plans  of  Gens.  Sherman  and  Sheridan,  the  force 
consisting  mainly  of  his  regiment,  and  being  organized  at  his 
post.  The  reason  for  this  was  obviously  Custer's  success  as  an 
Indian  fighter;  he  had  never  yet  laet  with  disaster  while  in  com- 
mand of  an  important  expedition.  But  while  he  was  hard  at 
'work  preparing  for  this  journey  to  the  land  of  the  Sioux,  he  was 
summoned  to  Washington  as  a  witness  as  to  some  alleged  abuses 
in  the  War  Department.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  was 
needed  in  Dakota,  that  he  knew  little,  if  anything,  about  the 
matter  that  was  being  investigated,  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  the 
capital,  where  he  was  kept  a  month.  Unwilling  to  go,  since  he 
was  needed  at  the  west,  unwilling  to  testify,  since  he  could  give 
©nly  hearsay  evidence  and  opinion.  Gen.  Grant,  then  President, 
persisted  in  believing  that  he  was  anxious  to  make  such  state- 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


ments  as  he  could,  and  took  his  presence  in  Washington  as  a 
personal  injury  and  insult  offered  to  himself,  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  army. 

Custer  heard  that  Grant  was  bitterly  incensed  against  him, 
and  knowing  it  was  without  just  cause,  endeavored  to  see  him, 
hoping  by  a  frank  statement  of  the  truth  to  disabuse  his  mind 
of  that  impression.  Three  times  he  called  at  the  White  House, 
but  was  compelled  to  wait  in  the  ante-rooir  for  hours  without 
gaining  admittance  to  the  President.  Nor  did  a  letter  to  Gen. 
Grant  produce  the  desired  effect. 

Calling  upon  Gen.  Sherman,  Custer  found  that  he  was  in  New 
York,  and  left  Washington  on  the  evening  train.  The  next  day 
Gen.  Sheridan  received  a  telegram  from  Gen.  Sherman,  direct- 
ing him  to  intercept  Custer  at  Chicago  or  St.  Paul,  and  order 
him  to  halt  for  further  orders ;  that  he  was*  not  justified  in  leav- 
ing without  seeing  the  President  or  the  General  of  the  Army; 
that  the  expedition  from  Ft.  Lincoln  should  proceed  without  him. 

President  Grant  was  implacable  in  his  displeasure,  and  few 
were  the  concessions  which  could  be  wrung  from  him.  The  poor 
favor  of  being  at  Fort  Lincoln  instead  of  Chicago  was  granted, 
and  after  an  earnest  and  touching  appeal,  Custer  was  allowed  to 
accompany,  as  a  subordinate,  the  expedition  of  which  he  was  to 
have  been  the  leader. 

The  two  columns  moved  towards  each  other,  and  Gen.  Crook's 
came  within  striking  distance  of  Sitting  Bull;  but  again  valu- 
able time  was  lost.  As  they  were  in  camp,  they  were  attacked 
by  the  Sioux,  and  Crook  decidedly  out-generaled*  by  Sitting 
Bull,  a  born  soldier.  Driven  back  with  serious  loss.  Crook  re- 
turned  to  his  permanent  oamp, 

Meanwhile  Gen.  Terry,  from  Fort  Lincoln,  and  Gen.  Gibbon,  from 
Fort  Ellis,  had  effected  a  junction  near  the  mouth  of  the  Tongue  Eiver> 
and  steps  were  immediately  taken  to  find  out  where  the  Indians  were. 
Major  Reno  of  the  Seventh  was  sent  out  to  explore  the  tongue  of  land, 
some  fifteen  miles  wide,  between  the  Rosebud  and  Little  Big  Horn.  A 
large  trail  was  found,  and  the  position  of  the  Indians  fixed.  Custer  was 
directed  to  move  up  the  Rosebud  until  this  trail  was  struck,  then  turn 
toward  the  south,  sending  scouts  over  the  trail.  He  declined  the  offer  of 
Gibbon's  cavalry  and  a  few  Gatling  guns,  saying  that  his  own  command 
would  be  sufficient,  and  artillery  would  impede  his  march. 


I 


GENERAL  CiEORGE  A,  CUSTER. 


Gen.  'I'erry  inquired  at  what  rate  he  intended  tc  muic.  ;  the 
answer  was,  about  thirty  miles  a  day.  Gen.  Gibbon  was  to 
move  upon  the  Indians  at  the  same  time  by  a  route  oi  nearly 
equal  length,  so  that  if  they  marched  at  the  same  rate  his  force 
would  be  a  reserve  for  Custer  to  fall  back  on  in  case  of  need. 

Leaving  the  camp  at  noon  on  June  22d,  the  regiment  marched 
up  the  Eosebud  as  ordered,  camping  at  night  twelve  miles  from 
their  starting  point.  But  when  morning  came  the  impetuous 
cavalryman  could  no  longer  restrain  his  ardor;  the  game  was  in 
the  field;  why  should  the  sportsmen  delay?  Five  miles  more 
than  the  limit  were  made  that  day,  and  at  5  o'clock  on  Saturday 
morning,  June  24th,  they  were  again  on  the  march.  All  day  they 
kept  steadily  on,  until,  at  8  P.  M.,  they  had  marched  forty-five 
miles.  Halting  for  supper,  they  marched  ten  miles  further. 
They  had  not  taken  the  proposed  route,  but  had,  instead,  follow- 
ed the  trail  discovered  by  Eeno. 

But,  even  after  their  fifty  miles^  march,  they  were  not  to  rest. 
After  a  short  halt,  the  horses  being  still  saddled,  they  pressed  on, 
and  by  8  on  the  morning  of  the  25th  had  advanced  twenty-three 
miles  further — a  total  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles 
since  noon  of  the  22d,  or  at  the  rate  of  forty -four  miles  in  twen- 
ty-four hours. 

It  was  Sunday  morning  when  they  halted  on  one  of  the 
branches  of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  The  Indians  had  discovered 
their  presence,  and  as  a  surprise  was  no  longer  possible,  it  was 
determined  to  attack  at  once. 

Custer,  true  to  his  custom  of  surrounding  the  enemy  and  at- 
tacking from  all  sides  at  once,  sent  three  companies  under  Major 
Eeno  to  the  left,  and  three  under  Captain  Benteen  further  in  the 
same  direction.  He  retained  five  companies  under  his  own  com- 
mand, one  being  in  charge  of  the  packs. 

The  village  before  them  was  supposed  to  be  a  family  camp^  or 
at  least  one  of  comparatively  few  lodges.  The  Indians  appeared 
^o  be  retreating,  and,  fearful  lest  they  escape  him,  Custer. gave 
the  order  for  rapid  movements.  Advancing  at  a  fast  trot,  Major 
Eeno  forded  the  river  about  two  miles  from  the  point  where  the 
main  command  was  posted,  and  charged  down  the  valley.  Then 
he  found  how  great  a  mistake  had  been  made.  Fully  four  thou- 
sand warriors  of  the  Sioux  were  in  the  village,  lead  by  that  ter- 
rible being  for  whose  head  the  people  of  Montana  had  for  eight 
years  past  offered  a  reward  of  $1,000— Sitting  Bull.  With  diffi- 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A  CUSTER. 


349 


cultj'  Capt  Benteen,  driven  back  by  this  Kost.  had  made  his  way 
to  Reno'f^  command  :  ho  could  not  obey  the  penciled  ordei  re* 
ccivod  from  Custer's  adjutant,  Lieut.  Cook : 

Benteen,  come  on  ;  be  quick  ;  big  village  ,  bring  packs 

The  men  were  dismounted,  and  for  some  time  endeavored  to 
beat  off  the  swarms  of  assailants.  The  fusilade  of  shots  reminded 
the  old  soldiers  of  the  fight  in  the  Wilderness  wncn  the  North 
and  South  strove  together.  But  at  last  tney  saw  how  futile  were 
their  efforts;  they  remounted  and  endeavored  to  gain  the  high 
bluffs  across  the  river.  Hot  and  fast  came  the  painted  devils  af- 
ter  them,  while  the  troopers  fought  their  way  out.  Thicker  and 
thicker  hailed  the  shots,  as  the  soldiers  urged  their  horses  up  the 
bank,  so  steep  that  they  could  not  sit  upright  in  their  saddles, 
but  must  cling  to  the  animals^  necks.  Just  as  the  ascent  was 
gained,  eight  men  fell.  Wounded  before,  they  had  managed  to 
keep  their  seats  until  beyond  the  enemy's  reach.  Others  were 
wounded,  and  the  firing  was  as  heavy  as  ever. 

Hastily  disposing  the  dead  bodies  of  men  and  Lorses  to  form 
a  rude  barricade,  Reno's  command  prepared  for  defense.  It 
was  now  noon,  and  the  heat  of  the  sun  and  the  fever  of  their 
wounds  produced  an  intolerable  thirst  m  those  who  had,  been 
shot.  Piteously  they  begged  for  water  and  many  of  their  com- 
rades dashed  down  the  bahk  to  the  river.  Few  returned,  for 
the  Indians  were  matching  for  them  At  last  the  commabder 
wa§  obliged  to  forbid  such  efforts^  and  whole  and  wounded  must 
do  without  the  drink  which  must  coslsucb  precious  lives. 

How  long  they  could  hold  out  thus  was  a  question.  When 
would  rel  let  come  ?  Wh^t  was  Custer  doing?  They  could  send 
no  messenger  to  the  mam  command  nor  could  any  reach  them. 
Whether  Custer  was  attackKig"  the  Indians  they  couLd  not  tell; 
there  were  such  swarms  about  them,  constantly  firing,  that  they 
could  hear  nothing  of  that  other  fight  even  then  going  on  at 
the  other  side  of  the  village.  _ 

When  the  three  battalions  separated,  Custer  moved  rapidly] 
down  the  river  to  the  ford,  which  he  endeavored  to  cross;  but 
a  portion  of  the  Indians,  not  occupied  with  Reno,  prevented 
this,  and  themselves  crossed  to  the  east  side,  where  was  Cus- 
ter's  command.  Step  by  step  the  cavalry  were  driven  back  from 
the  ford.  The  men  had  been  dismounted,  the  horses  being  se- 
cured in  a  grove  near  by.  The  long  march  told  upon  the  sol- 
diers, who  were  so  worn  out  tbeg;,<?Ott]|.d  hardly  stand. 


350 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


Retreat  was  necessary,  but  it  must  not  degenerate  into  flight. 
Danger  there  was,  certainly ;  but  some  might  escape.  The  In- 
dians might  be  held  in  check  until  Eeno  or  Benteen  should  come 
with  assistance.  Little  did  Custer  guess  how  sorely  his  subord- 
inates were  pressed  by  the  common  foe  ;  he  still  hoped  for  help 
from  those  who  in  turn  were  looking  for  help  from  him. 


SITTING  BUIX. 

Companies  L  and  P,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Calhoun  and 
Captain  Yates,  were  posted  to  cover  the  rear.  One  was  his 
brother-in-law,  the  other  his  friend  since  boyhood ;  but  the  com- 
mander could  do  no  more  for  them  than  give  them  the  post  of 
honor.  Unhesitatingly  they  obeyed,  they  and  their  commands, 
though  there  was  not  a-  man  but  what  knew  what  the  r^s^U 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


351 


would  be.  The  enemy  charged  upon  them,  as  the  swift  current 
of  the  Missouri  sets  in  toward  the  bank.  Slowly,  surely,  stead- 
ily, the  earth  is  washed  away  by  the  waters;  slowly,  surelj^, 
steadily  their  numbers  grew  less.  Not  a  man  faltered,  not  a 
man  fled;  with  their  comrades  falling  around,  each  stood  or 
knelt  in  his  place,  firing  with  machine-like  regularity  at  the  ad- 
vancing foe  until  the  last  cartridge  was  gone  ;  then  he  died 

"  With  his  back  to  the  field  and  his  feet  to  the  foe." 
And  the  position  of  the  bodies  showed  each  man's  place  in  the 
skirmish  line. 

The  two  companies  had  been  sacrificed  in  vain.  Onward  came 
the  savages  like  tigers  whose  appetites  are  whetted,  not  cloyed, 
by  the  stream  of  blood  that  had  been  poured  forth.  The  com- 
panies commanded  by  Capts.  Custer  and  Smith  had  tried  to  cut 
their  way  to  the  river,  but  fell  in  the  ravine. 

"  Tis  late  before 
The  brave  despair." 

But  they  knew  now  that  there  was  no  hope  for  any  of  them.  The 
Crow  scout.  Curly,  begged  the  general  to  let  him  show  him  a- 
way  to  escape.  It  was  a  momentary  pause,  when  the  Indiana 
were  gathering  for  a  fresh  onset.  A  moment's  thought  of  the 
wife  and  the  mother  who  were  praying  for  him,  and  he  waved 
away  the  faithful  scout  and  went  back  to  die. 

There  was  but  one  company  left.  Custer  and  his  staff,  his 
brother,  and  the  civilians  who  had  accompanied  the  expedition 
(his  youngest  brother  and  nephew),  with  this  company,  were 
grouped  on  a  little  knoll  to  the  right  of  that  well  defended 
skirmish  line.  Upon  them  came  the  Indians,  and  as  the  bullets 
came  like  swarms  of  bees,  man  after  man  went  down.  At  Cus- 
ter's right  fell  Capt.  Keogh ;  at  his  feet  lay  his  youngest  brother, 
Boston  Custer.  At  his  left  fought  gallant  Col.  Tom  Custer,  who 
had  won  two  medals  for  flags  taken  from  the  enemy  in  action  ; 
who,  enlisting  as  a  private,  had  won  his  commision  by  his  courage. 
A  ball  struck  him,  and  he  fell ;  raising  himself,  he  fired  one  last 
shot ;  another  bullet  struck  him  ;  his  failing  strength  gave  way, 
and  at  his  brother's  very  feet  he  died. 

It  was  now  a  hand-to-hand  fight  between  the  hosts  of  Indians 
and  the  handful  of  white  men.  Discarding  his  revolver  with 
which  he  had  already  killed  three  warriors,  Custer  drew  his 
sabre.  The  savages  pressed  forward,  each  anxious  to  count 
coup"  upon  the  Big  Yellow  Chi'^^.  so  long  the  terror  of  their  kind- 


35^ 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


red  ;  for  he  who  kills  an  enemy  by  a  bullet  may  not  reckon  him 
among  his  victims.  Their  blows  are  parried  by  the  dexterous 
swordsman,  whose  only  hope  now  is  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as 
possible.  Terrible  is  the  price  which  the  Sioux  must  pay  for  it, 
for  three  more  of  their  bravest  warriors  fall  by  his  hand.  Un- 
deterred by  the  fate  of  their  comrades,  others  press  forward,  but 
their  eiforts  are  unavailing.  As  the  third  warrior  goes  down  be- 
fore that  t.errible  sabre,  Eain-in-the-Pace  aims  and  fires.  Custer 
falls  }  the  Indian  is  avenged.  Only  one  man  yet  battles  for  life 
—the  adjutant,  Col.  Cook.  A  ball  pierces  his  heart,  and  he  too, 
without  a  groan,  lies  at  the  feet  of  the  dying  commander. 


"we  hate  killed  THEM  ALL  I" — THE  MESSENGER  OF  YICTORY, 


Custer  had  seen  his  officers  and  men  die  around  him ;  his  own 
eyes  were  the  last  to  close  upon  that  scene  of  slaughter.  Hardly 
had  his  brave  heart  ceased  to  beat  when  the  savage  whom  he 
would  have  hanged  for  the  murder  of  two  helpless  old  men  bent 
over  him,  intent  upon  securing  some  ghastly  trophy  of  vengeance. 
But  his  dusky  brethren,  devilish  as  they  were,  had  yet  some 
germ  of  manliness  remaining;  a  swordsman  is  in^  their  eyes 
braver  than  a  man  who  fights  with  rifle  or  pistol,  and  one  so 
brave  as  Custer  must  be  respected  even  in  death.  No  one  may 
count  coup  upon  so  brave  a  foe,  for  though  Eain-in-the-Face  fire^ 


354 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 


just  before  he  fell,  some  other  of  the  scores  of  bullets  may  have 
killed  him.  Closing  about  Custer^s  body,  they  would  allow  it  to 
be  disfigured  by  no  warrior,  even  though  he  were  brave  and  dis- 
tinguished and  deeply  injured,  as  Eain-in-the-Pace.  Foiled  of  his 
purpose,  the  savage  turned  to  his  arch-enemy's  double,  the  Col. 
Custer  who  had  arrested  him;  and  dug  out  the  heart  that  had 
Hiever  known  fear. 

Then  the  wounded  Indians  came  streaming  back  into  camp. 
Sitting  Bull,  fearful  of  the  result,  had  given  orders  that  the 
lodges  should  be  struck;  but  now  the  messenger  of  victory 
brought  a  different  command. 

^^We  have  killed  them  all;  put  up  your  lodges  where  they 
are/' 

There  was  no  danger  now  to  the  Sioux  ;  Custer  was  dead. 

The  story  Is  told  by  the  Indian  and  half-breed  scouts  that  es- 
caped, and  by  the  boasts  of  the  victors.  And  the  position  of  the 
bodies,  as  they  were  found  on  the  battle-field,  told  more  plainly 
than  words  how  each  man  had  fought. 

Not  until  the  night  of  the  26th  was  Eeno's  command  relieved 
by  the  advance  of  Gen.  Gibbon,  and  the  next  day  he  learned  why 
he  had  not  received  the  help  for  which  he  had  looked  so  earn- 
estly. Three  hundred  and  fifteen  men  and  thirteen  commis- 
sioned officers  fell  upon  that  field,  and  none  of  their  race  knew 
in  what  danger  they  had  been,  with  what  despairing  courage 
they  had  fought,  until  their  mutilated  bodies  were  found,  each 
in  its  place,  like  the  old  Eoman  soldier  at  Pompeii.  Two  only 
were  missing;  the  fate  of  one  is  still  a  mystery;  but  the  bleach- 
ing skeleton,  afterward  found  in  a  neighboring  thicket,  told  of 
one  who  had  hoped  against  hope;  who  had  snade  one  last,  des- 
pairing effort  to  elude  the  savage  foe. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


WILD  BILL. 

SIX  feet  one  in  his  moccasins,  deep  chested,  compactly  built, 
with  quiet  gray  eyes,  clear  and  calm  as  a  woman's,  an  al- 
most womanish  gentleness  of  expression,  bright  chestnut  hair 
floating  over  his  shoulders — it  does  not  seem  a  promising  picture 
to  those  who  would  hear  of  adventure.  But  that  small,  muscu- 
lar hand  had  taken  deadly  aim  at  scores  of  men;  before  the  gaze 
of  that  eye  many  a  bold  border  spirit  had  quailed.  "  He  shoots 
to  kill,''  says  the  admiring  plainsman,  with  that  cool  disregard 
of  human  life  which  is  so  common  in  any  newly  settled  country: 
and  the  name  of  Wild  Bill  was  a  terror  to  evil-doers. 

Illinois  was  but  a  thinly  populated  state,  containing  fewer  in- 
habitants than  does  the  city  of  Chicago  at  this  moment,  when, 
in  May,  1837,  there  was  born,  in  La  Salle  County,  James  Butler 
Hickok,  better  known  to  us  as  Wild  Bill.  The  primitive  state 
of  the  country  doubtless  had  much  to  do  with  the  nature  of  his 
tastes  and  favorite  amusement — the  practice  of  marksmanship, 
then  an  indispensable  accomplishment  in  the  frontier  state  just 
east  of  the  Mississippi.  All  the  treasures  that  he  could  command 
were  jealously  hoarded,  trades  with  his  companions  increased  his 
stock  of  trifles  invaluable  to  a  boy,  and  at  last  he  had  enough  to 
barter  for  a  pistol.  A  little,  single-barreled,  flint-lock,  old  style 
pistol  was  a  priceless  treasure  to  the  eight-year-old  boy,  and  he 
only  ceased  to  practice  with  it  when  ammunition  gave  out.  Then 
every  efi'ort  was  made  to  get  powder;  the  place  of  lead  could  be 
supplied  by  pebbles,  but  he  must  have  powder,  and  all  the  lessei 
valuables  that  he  could  accumulate  were  traded  off  for  that  neces- 
sary article. 

The  character  of  the  services  which  he  rendered  to  his  family  an<3 
country  may  readily  be  guessed.  If  a  runaway  hunting  expeditioB 
into  the  woods  was  too  severely  punished,  his  enthusiasm  found 
vent  in  shots  at  stray  chickens  or  pigs.  He  was  not  appreciated. 


356 


WILD  BILL. 


however,  as  he  expected  to  be,  and  he  was  aGti^ally  compelled 
to  go  to  school  whenever  an  occasional  session  gave  opportunity. 
How  far  his  education  went,  in  the  direction  of  books,  is  doubt- 
ful ;  certainly  not  very  far ;  but  at  any  rate  he  learned  to  read,  and 
eagerly  devoured  the  few  books  of  adventure  that  came  in  his  way. 

Happier  times  came,  however,  when  he  was  about  fourteen,  for 
then  he  became  the  possessor  of  an  excellent  pistol  and  a  rifle, 
and  thus  armed,  he  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  woods.  Such 
were  the  ravages  of  the  wolves  at  that  period,  that  the  state  of- 


WILD  BILL  SHOOTING  WOLVES. 

fered  premiums  for  their  scalps,  and  young  Hickok  now  found 
his  skill  with  the  rifle  and  the  pistol  enabled  him  to  earn  no  small 
income.  But  the  story  of  Kit  Carson's  adventures  had  inflamed 
him  with  a  passion  for  the  West,  and  declaring  to  his  brothers 
that  he  would  one  day  beat  anything  that  Carson  had  ever  at-* 
tempted,  he  proceeded  to  the  realization  of  his  ambition.  A  short 
experience  as  tow-path  driver  on  the  Illinois  and  Michigan  canal, 
was  ended  by  a  fight  with  another  driver.  Though  fists  were  the 
only  weapons,  and  his  antagonist  was  r.  powerful  man,  the  boy's 
activity  and  endurance  gave  him  a  decided  victory.  After  thiS;, 
he  returned  home,  and  lived  quietly  for  two  years,  or  until  iie 
was  about  eighteen  y ears_old^ 


WILD  BILL, 


The  troubles  in  ivansas  were  then  beginning,  and  thirsting  for 
excitement,  our  hero  betook  himself  thither.  Collecting  as  much 
money  as  he  could  command,  he  set  out  on  foot  to  St.  Louis. 
Great  as  have  been  the  changes  of  nearly  thirty  years,  even  in 
1855  this  son  of  the  prairie  found  much  that  was  wonderful  in 
the  great  city,  inferior  only  to  New  Orleans  and  Cincinnati 
among  those  west  of  the  Alleghanies.  The  railroads  toward  the 
west  were  then  unheard  of,  but  along  the  ievee,  from  Bremen  to 
Oarondelet,  stretched  a  line  of  magnificent  steamers,  that  formed 
a  main  element  of  the  city^s  prosperityo  In  all  directions  they 
went,  from  all  directions  they  came;  and  after  mature  delibera- 
tion, our  young  adventurer  took  passage  on  one  bound  for  the 
upper  Missouri;  his  proposed  destination  being  Leavenworth. 
History  says  it  was  a  tedious  journey,  and  those  who  can  recall 
a  steamboat  trip  on  the  Missouri  will  doubtless  accept  the  state- 
ment as  true. 

Arriving  at  Leavenworth,  they  found  that  the  mob,  unreason- 
ably suspicious  of  their  intentions,  would  not  permit  them  to 
land.    Where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way,  and  young  Hickok, 
costuming  himself  as  a  roustabout^  and  engaging  in  their  work, 
managed,  while  carrying  off  freightj  to  slip  through  the  crowd, 
and  gain  the  centre  of  the  town.    Once  there,  he  soon  joined  the 
anti-slavery  forces,  led  by  Jim  Lane,  a  recent  immigrant  from 
Indianao    Three  tiundred  men,  each  armed  with  such  weapons  as 
taste  or  means  dictated,  formed  the  regiment  that  was  called  out 
for  drill  and  rifle  practice  a  few  days  after  Hickok  joined  it.  As 
Lane  was  complimenting  his  young  recruit  on  the  excellence  '^^'^ 
his  marksmanship,  in  which  he  easily  beat  every  man 
the  boy's  quick  eye  saw  a  crow  flying  overheado  Dra^^^* 
tol  from  his  pocket,  he  took  aim,  pulled  the  trigger, ' 
fell  dead.    He  returned  the  weapon  to  his  pocket  wi^ 
indeed,  any  comment  would  have  been  unhearc'  ' 
ing  with  which  his  comrades  greeted  the  ey 
Thenceforth  he  was  the  darling  of  the  r^ 
favor  by  the  bestowal  of  the  nicknamp 
son  of  the  first  part  of  the  name 
we  remember  his  stature,  which 
build  of  a  boy ;  but  why  ^'  BilJ  " 
no  one  knows.    It  may  hav( 
reason;  certain  it  is  that 
out  his  life. 


WILD  BILL. 


For  two  years  ne  fought  as  a  brave  and  excellent  soldier  to 
keep  slavery  out  of  Kansas,  always  recognized  by  Lane  as  the 
most  effective  man  in  the  command.  Then,  entering  a  claim  of 
a  quarter  section  in  Johnson  County,  he  built  a  cabin,  and  settled 
down  to  farming.  Though  not  yet  of  age,  such  was  his  reputa- 
tion that  he  was  almost  immediately  elected  constable.  The 
conscientious  and  efficient  way  in  which  he  did  the  work  of  this 
position  did  not  endear  him  to  those  Missourians  who  made  fre- 
quent predatory  incursions  on  Kansas  soil,  and  twice  they  burned 
his  cabin  during  his  absence  from  home.  Giying  up  the  idea  of 
living  quietly  here,  he  engaged  himself  as  driver  for  the  Over- 
land Stage  Company.  In  such  a  position  it  was  not  difficult  to 
make  a  reputation,  honorable  or  not,  according  to  one^s  personal 
courage  and  prowess.  Apparently  a  reckless  driver,  few  acci- 
dents happened  to  him,  and  as  he  drove  the  big  Concord  coach, 
bounding  along  like  a  wounded  buifalo,  at  headlong  speed  down 
the  hill  into  Santa  Fe,  the  rough  frequenters  of  the  saloons,  always 
fighting  drunk  and  armed  to  the  teeth,  looked  on  in  admiration. 
Victor  in  twenty  fights  or  more,  the  best  shot  on  the  plains,  and 
never  losing  his  presence  of  mind  in  an  emergency  requiring 
action,  he  was  the  hero  of  all  w4io  knew  him. 

Such  were  the  foundations  of  a  reputation  that  before  many 
years  was  to  extend  to  the  seaboard  on  either  side  of  the  conti- 
nent; a  reputation  even  then  shortly  to  be  enhanced  by  success 
as  a  soldier.    It  was  in  the  fall  of  1858  that  the  Indians,  break 
ing  out  of  the  reservation  on  the  Sweetwater,  committed  many 
^^trages.    Settlers  were  massacred,  cabins  burned,  expre?:s  rid- 
*Ued,  and  at  last  a  large  party  attacked  a  stage-coach,  kill- 
^  en,  and  seriously  wounding  others.    Nor  was  this  alL 
f  horses  w^as  so  frequent  as  to  seriously  cripple  the 
danger  was  such  that  for  more  than  two  months 
"vere  suspended  on  that  division.  Summoned 
i  a  council  that  the  officers  held  regarding 
ding  against  the  Indians,  Bill  offered  for 
h  was  immediately  adopted.    At  the 
mounted  men,  they  set  out,  on  the 
wdcr  Eiver,  where  they  found  an 
they  went  on,  and  chock  full 
\  they  were  not  sorry  to  find 
^.rs.  Suddenly,  as  they  fol- 
^pv  found  that  the  origin- 


WILD  BILL, 


359 


^1  party  had  been  joiued  by  another  of  equal  size,  so  that  the 
enemy  now  nnmbered  about  two  hundred.  Many  were  the  ex- 
pressions of  opinion  about  the  expediency  of  following  a  force 
four  times  as  great  as  their  own,  but  Bill  cut  the  discussion  short 
with: 

^'FlI  shoot  the  first  man  that  tries  to  go  back/'  and  none  tried. 

Perhaps  the  threat  was  not  needed ;  at  any  rate,  his  men  were 
(illed  with  new  enthusiasm,  and  went  gaily  onward  to  Clear 
Creek.  Here  the  trail  was  but  two  or  three  hours  old,  for  the 
jllndians  march  but  slowly  when  they  do  not  fear  pursuit;  and 


WILD  BILL  (j.  B.  mCKOK.) 

nothing  but  the  lateness  of  the  day  prevented  an  attack  as  soon 
as  they  could  be  overtaken.    A  halt  was  ordered. 

Do  you  see  that  little  blue  smoke  over  the  hill-tops  asked 
Bill,  pointing  due  north.  Well,  that  means  an  Indian  camp. 
You  boys  just  stop  right  here  and  Til  locate  the  game.'' 

Leaving  the  trail  and  riding  far  to  the  windward,  he  reached 
a  high  point  from  which  he  could  reconnoiter  the  camp.  Satisfy- 
ing himself  as  to  the  exact  force  of  the  Indians,  how  their  camp 
was  pitched,  and  that  the  stock  was  corraled,  not  tethered,  ho 
returned  to  his  men. 

Resting  themselves  and  their  horses,  &iid  gett.ng  everything  in 
readiness  for    %ht,  it  was  ten  o'clock  ^  hen  the  signal  was  giv©B 


360 


"VILD  BIL 


to  mount  ana  xiae  onward.  Proceeding  toward  tlie  camp  with 
due  caution,  they  found  that  the  Indians,  as  usual^  had  set  no 
guard,  trusting  to  their  quick  ears  and  light  slumber  to  inform 
them  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy.  The  awakening  came  too 
late.  Eousing  themselves  from  the  first  sound  sleep,  , they  hardly 
realized  what  the  confusion  meant ;  but  as  each  came  out  of  his 
lodge,  he  went  down  before  the  pistols  of  the  attacking  party,  ■ 
who  were  commanded  to  use  no  other  weapons.  The  assault  was 
a  complete  success  3  the  fight  quickly  became  a  slaughter,  the 
horses  and  ponies  were  secured,  so  thatthe  Indians  had  no  means 
of  pursuit  left  to  them.  Returning  to  St.  Joseph  with  their  booty, 
all  of  the  stolen  horses  and  more  than  a  hundred  Indian  ponies, 
a  big  spree  celebrated  their  success.  Of  course  a  fight  followed, 
but  only  one  man  was  killed. 

Leaving  the  service  of  the  Overland  Stage  Company,  in  1859, 
Bill  engaged  to  drive  freight  teams  from^  Independence,  Mo,,  to 
Santa  Fe.  It  was  while  thus  employed  that  he  met  with  an  ad- 
venture that  came  near  being  a  fatal  one;  nothing  less  than  an 
encounter  with  a  huge  cinnamon  bear,  strong  and  active  as  the 
grizzly,  and  possessed  of  greater  powers  of  endurance. 

The  teamster  in  charge  of  the  companion  wagon  had  fallen 
iome  distance  behind  when  Bill  saw,  directly  in  front,  as  if  dis- 
puting the  right  of  way  with  him,  a  huge  cinnamon  bear  and  her 
two  cubs.  Moved  with  fear  for  the  safety  of  her  young,  the  ani- 
mal growled  forbiddingly  as  the  bold  plainsman  advanced  towards 
her.  Armed  with  a  pair  of  pistols  and  a  large  bowie-knife.  Bill  felt 
no  fear  as  to  the  result  of  the  encounter,  little  knowing  the  strength 
or  endurance  of  the  enemy  with  which  he  had  to  contend.  A9 
the  bear  approached  him,  he  took  aim,  and  when  she  was  within 
about  twenty  feet  of  him,  fired.  The  ball  struck  her  squarely  on  the 
forehead,  but  rebounded  like  a  hailstone  from  the  thick  skull, 
serving  only  to  inflict  a  trifling  cut  that  infuriated  the  animal, 
already  angry.  "No  time  remained  for  retreat  to  the  safety  of  the 
wagon -top,  for  in  the  next  instant  the  bear  sprang  upon  him,  bury* 
ing  her  long,  sharp  claws  in  his  flesh.  The  second  pistol  disabled 
one  paw,  but  rearing  upon  her  hind  legs  the  bear  grappled  with 
him  almost  like  a  human  antagonist.  His  left  forearm  was 
crushed,  his  breast  ploughed  in  bloody  seams  by  tho  claws,  his 
shoulder  torn,  his  cheek  laid  open,  but  time  after  tin^B  the  long 
knife  was  plunged  into  the  huge  brown  carcass,  until  the  blood 
of  both  antagonists,  brute  and  human,  flowing  in  rivwlets  from 


WILD  BILL. 


361 


wounds,  soaked  the  ground  on  which  they  foughx.  i^ow  his  foot 
^lips,  and  he  falls  to  the  earth,  the  bear  over  him,  holding  his 
left  arm  in  her  mouth;  but  with  almost  superhuman  strength  he 
reverses  their  positions,  and  again  and  again  buries  his  dripping 

knife  in  her  flesh.  A''^  last 
a  deadly  gash  across  the 
throat  severs  the  wind- 
pipe, and  his  terrible  an- 
tagonist is  dead.  Faint: 
with  loss  of  blood  and 
severe  exertion,  he  lies 
beside  her,  only  able, 
when  his  companion  at 
last  comes  up,  to  point 
feebly  to  the  dead  bear 
and  his  own  wounds.  For 
two  months  he  lay  help- 
less, and  several  more  had 
passed  before  he  was  able 
to  go  to  work  agaiii. 

He  did  not,  on  his  re- 
covery, again  enter  the 
employment  of  the 
freighters,  but  took  a 
situation,  offered  by  the 
Overland  Stage  Co.,  as 
watchman  and  hostler  at 
Eock  Creek  Station,  fifty 
miles  west  of  Topeka. 
This  was  a  relay  post 
where  generally  abouttwenty-five  horses  were  kept.  BilFs  duties 
were  more  in  the  way  of  protecting  the  animals  from  the  thieves 
so  plentiful  in  that  part  of  the  country,  than  in  attending  to  the 
horses,  an  assistant  being  provided  for  the  latter  purpose.  They 
were  lodged  in  a  ^'dug-out,^'  a  thatched  cabin  built  on  the  hillside, 
so  that  the  back  and  part  of  the  side  walls  were  formed  of  earth, 
the  remainder  of  the  cabin  being  of  logs.  A  horse-blanket  formed 
the  only  partition  between  kitchen  and  bed-room.  More  commo- 
dious and  pretentious  were  the  buildings  used  as  stables ;  and 
strong  enough  to  defy,  when  locked,  any  ordinary  assault.  Here, 
in  this  lonely  cabin  on  the  hill-side,  the  two  men  passed  the  fail 


WILD  bill's  fight  WITH  THE  BEAR. 


WILD  Bll^h. 


of  1861,  the  monotony  of  this  life  only  broken  by  the  daily  ar- 

rival  of  the  stage  with  news  from  the  outer  world.  Exciting 
news  it  was^  for  the  papers  told  of  the  contest  even  then  m  pro- 
gress. But  those  were  the  days  when  men  enlisted  "for  the 
war/^  rather  than  for  two  months^  since  no  one  wanted  to  be  a 
soldier  longer  than  this  trifling  conflict  should  last. 

About  a  dozen  miles  from  this  station  was  the  rendezvous  of  a 
gang  of  horse-thieves,  who  occasionally  committed  highway  rob- 
bery. Like  many  such  bands,  they  tried  to  attach  themselves  to 
the  military  service^  during  the  whole  war,  the  guerillas,  or 
bushwhackers,  claiming  to  belong  to  one  of  the  two  armies, 
made  odious  the  name  of  that  to  which  they  were  attached.  The 
McCandlas  gang,  as  this  was  called  from  its  leaders,  two  brothers 
^f  that  name,  was  the  most  prominent  in  that  portion  of  the  state, 
pretending  that  they  were  commissioned  to  collect  horses  and 
enlist  recruits  for  the  Confederate  army.  The  horses  of  the 
Overland,  at  Eock  Creek,  numerous  and  in  good  condition,  were  a 
tempting  prize,  of  which4-hey  were  resolved  to  become  possessed. 
Bill,  too,  the  best  shot  in  the  state,  and  utterly  fearless,  would  be 
a  most  valuable  addition  to  their  numbers.  But  threats  and  per« 
suasions  proved  useless. 

"When  you  want  these  horses  come  and  take  them,  and  if  you 
want  me,  you'll  find  me  here.^' 

Such  was  the  answer  which  he  gave  to  a  party  of  five,  on  the 
morning  of  the  16th  of  December.  The  outlaws  rode  on — he  was 
too  formidable  to  be  attacked  by  such  a  force — and  Bill  prepared 
for  their  return.  His  companion  was  out  hunting,  and  could  not 
be  expected  to  come  back  in  time  to  render  any  assistance.  The 
stables  were  locked,  the  door  and  the  one  window  of  the  dug- 
out secured,  his  weapons — a  large  bore  rifle,  two  revolvers  and 
two  bowie-knives — carefully  examined. 

It  was  three  o^clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  short  winter  day 
when  the  two  McCandlas  boys,  with  eight  of  their  most  desper- 
ate followers,  rode  up  to  the  cabin.  Finding  the  doors  of  th& 
stables  locked,  and  the  house  prepared  for  defense,  they  yet 
trusted  that  their  numbers  would  inspire  the  watchman  with 
fear 

"  Come  out  o'  yer  sheli,^'  yelled  one  of  the  leaders  with  an 
oath.  "  Ef  yer  donH,  thar'U  be  a  small-sized  murder  at  Eo>ck 
Creek,  and  the  Company'U  hev  to  hire  another  watchman.^^ 

ril  shoot  th©  first  man  that  tries  to  open  a  stable  door..''  ait- 


WILD  BIL 


swered  Bill ;  "and  ef  thar's  any  murderin'  done  at  Rock  Creek 
this  arternoon  thar'll  be  more'n  one  corpse  to  bury/' 
Surround  the  house  and  give  him  no  quarter 
"Come  and  fight  me,  you  cowardly  dog 

We  omit  the  most  emphatic  words  in  the  conversation;  such 
words  as  cause  the  Indian  to  call  our  language  talk  damn/'  It 
.must  be  understood  that  the  whole  proceedings  were  liberally 
garnished  with  sucl  expletives.  Tying  their  horses  to  surround- 
•ing  trees,  they  begau  to  batter  the  door  with  a  log  which  lay  near 


FIGHT  WITH  THE  MCCANDLAS  GANG. 


by  ;  the  defence  soon  gave  way,  and  Jim  McCandlas,  armed  with 
revolver  and  bowie-knife,  leaped  into  the  room,  his  finger  on  the 
^trigger,  ready  to  shoot.  But  Bill  was  too  quick. for  him  ;  a  rifle- 
ball  through  his  heart,  and  drawing  up  his  legs,  as  though  to 
make  room  for  his  companions,  the  desperado  fell  dead.  In  quick 
succession  three  shots  from  BilTs  pistol  killed  as  many  more  of 
his  assailants,  and  the  fight  became  more  furious  every  moment. 
The  remainder  of  thagang  had  now  surrounded  Bill,  who  pour- 
ed shots  right  and  left,  and  thrust  desperately  with  his  knife; 
but  the  odds  were  jgjreat,  and  when  one.  of  them  struck  him  o-w*'» 


WILD  ^iXL 


the  head  and  knocked  him  backward.  Jack  McCandlas  juiiiped 
upon  him,  with  knife  ready  to  plunge  into  his  heart.  Bill  strug- 
gled, freed  his  right  arm,  and  placing  the  muzzle  of  his  pistol 
,  right  against  his  enemy's  breast,  fired  as  the  knife  descended. 
The  hand  of  the  dying  man  dropped  helpless,  he  rolled  to  the 
fioor,  and  his  almost  victim  regained  his  feet*  The  blood  poured 
from  his  own  wounds  and  mingled  with  that  of  his  adversaries 
as  Bill  fought  on,  like  a  tiger  at  bay.  On  the  floor  of  the  hut 
lay  six  of  the  desperadoes,  dead,  and  two  desperately  wounded. 
These,  with  the  two  still  uninjured,  now  beat  a  retreat^  the  latter 
managing  to  regain  their  horses  and  ride  away  5  one  of  the 
wounded  men  likewise  escaped,  but  afterward  died  of  his  injuries , 
but  as  the  other  ran,  Bill  snatched  a  gun  from  the  hunter,  who 
just  came  up  at  this  time,  and  fired  at  him  5  it  is  needless  to  say 
he  fell  dead  in  his  tracks. 

"  All  of  a  sudden,^'  said  the  hero  of  this  fight,  when  telling  of 
it  afterward,  it  seemed  as  if  my  heart  was  on  fire,  I  was  bleed- 
ing everywhere  I  rushed  out  to  the  well  and  drank  from  the 
bucket,  and  then  tumbled  down  in  a  faint.''^ 

His  companion  carried  him  into  the  house,  where  he  lay  un- 
conscious for  nearly  an  hour.  The  arrival  of  the  stage  then 
brought  help,  for  one  of  the  passengers  possessed  some  surgical 
skill,  and  he  revived  him  and  dressed  his  wounds. 

"  I  remember  that  one  of  them  struck  me  with  his  gnn,  and  1 
got  hold  of  a  knife  3  and  then  I  got  kind  o'  wild  like,  and  it  was 
all  cloudy,  and  I  struck  savage  blows,  following  the  devils  up 
from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other  and  into  the  corners, 
striking  and  slashing  until  I  knew  every  one  was  dead^''^ 

Such  was  all  that  he  could  then  tell  of  the  fight*  As  his  strength 
returned,  so  that  he  need  no  longer  speak  while  gasping  for 
breath,  the  earlier  part  of  the  conflict  was  detailed,  and  the  two 
who  had  escaped  confirmed  the  story  by  their  own  independent 
account.  The  listening  bystanders  caught  at  his  expression,  and 
henceforth  the  name  of  Shanghai  Bill  was  dropped  in  favor  of 
that  which  he  bore  until  his  death.  But  the  victory  was  dearly 
bought;  for  months  he  lay  helpless,  so  severe  were  his  wounds, 
and  nearly  a  year  had  elapsed  before  he  was  entirely  well. 

Going  to  Leavenworth  on  his  recovery,  he  was  appointed  Bri- 
gade Wagon  Master  by  Gen.  Fremont,  thea  in  command  there. 
The  war  was  now  at  its  height,  and  those  states  in  which,  like 
Missouri  and  Kansas,  both  sides  were  represented  in  almost  equai 


WILD  BILL. 


numbers,  were  the  scenes  of  the  fiercest  conflicts  between  small 
parties.  Bill's  first  trip  with  a  train  was  toward  Sedalia,  a  few 
days  after  his  appointment.  The  wagons,  laden  with  provisions, 
were  a  tempting  prize  to  the  Confederates,  and  on  the  third  day 
from  their  departure  they  were  attacked  by  a  company  of  Gen. 
Price's  command,  The  force  was  small,  numbering  only  twelve 
men,  and  judging  the  odds  too  great  for  successful  resistance, 
they  yielded  without  firing  a  shot.  The  leader,  however,  was  a 
man  of  another  mettle.  Turning  his  horse  towards  Kansas  City, 
he  spurred  onward,  followed  by  a  least  fifty  of  the  attacking 
party.  Mile  after  mile  they  rode,  and  four  of  the  pursuers  fell 
dead  before  the  fugitive's  pistol;  bullets  fell  like  hail  around 
him,  but  none  touched  him.  At  last  he  was  safe  within  the  lines, 
and  his  assailants  returned  to  their  booty. 

Bill  reported  the  facts  to  the  commander  at  th'*^  post,  who  de- 
tailed two  companies  to  assist  him  in  recovering  the  property. 
He  felt  himself  disgraced  by  this  loss  of  his  first  charge,  and  was 
eager  to  avenge  himself.  The  Confederates,  elated  at  their  suc- 
cess, were  taken  by  surprise )  a  short  and  decisive  fight  followed 
the  charge  which  Wild  Bill  led  into  their  ranks  as  they  were 
marching  towards  headquarters,  and  Bill  conducted  the  train  in 
triumph  to  Sedalia. 

He  had  not  enlisted  in  the  army,  but  voluntarily  took  the  place 
of  a  sharp-shooter  in  the  battle  of  Pea  Eidge,  in  March,  1862  ; 
lying  behind  a  large  log  on  a  hill  overlooking  Cross-Timber 
Hollow,  for  nearly  four  hours,  picking  off  the  Confederates.  His 
victims  numbered  thirty-five,  and  were  of  all  ranks,  from  the 
private  soldier  to  Gen.  McCulloch.  The  attention  of  a  Confeder- 
ate company  was  directed  towards  the  source  of  this  murderou? 
fire,  and  they  charged  upon  him,  riddling  the  log  with  bullet- 
holes.  But  a  company  o^  his  comrades  saw  his  danger,  and 
charging  down  the  hill,  came  to  a  hand-to-hand  encounter  with 
the  Eebs,  which  proved  to  be  the  hottest  engagement  of  the  bat- 
tle, more  than  half  on  both  sides  being  killed. 

Soon  after  this  battle.  Gen,  Curtis  engaged  Bill  as  a  spy,  with 
orders  to  enter  Gen.  Price's  lines  and  get  all  the  information  he 
could  about  that  officer's  intentions.  Every  effort  was  being 
made  to  carry  Missouri  into  the  Confederacy;  her  people  were 
in  sympathy  with  the  more  southern  states,  and  the  Government 
was  seriously  alarmed  at  the  stand  she  had  taken.  Many  Mis- 
sourians  had  flocked  to  Price's  army,  and  steps  must  be  immedi- 


WILD  BILL 


ately  taken  to  drive  him  out  of  tlie  borders  of  the  state.  Bill 
was  given  a  fine  horse  and  instructed  to  make  his  way  into  the 
Confederate  lines  as  speedily  as  possible,  by  any  means  that  he 
chose.  Assuming  the  name  of  Bill  Barnes,  and  representing  him- 
self as  the  brother  of  a  man  recently  killed  in  the  Confederate 
army  in  Texas,  he  made  a  wide  circuit,  entering  the  state  of  Ar- 
kansas somewhat  south  of  the  center,  and  went  to  Little  Eock. 
There  he  enlisted  in  a  company  of  mounted  rangers  organizing 
to  join  Price, 

The  Missourian  had  fallen  back  to  Elk  Eiver,  where  he  was 
reinforced  by  Gen.  Shelby,  and  the  united  forces  awaited  the 
coming  of  Gen.  Curtis,  who,  with  a  slightly  inferior  commana 
was  following  swiftly  from  the  north.  Bill  was  appointed  an 
orderly  within  a  week  after  his  enlistment,  a  position  enabling 
him  to  execute  his  plans  all  the  better.  As  the  two  armies  lay 
drawn  up  in  order  of  battle^  separated  only  by  the  narrov/  creek, 
*\nd  waiting  only  for  daylight  to  begin  the  battle,  Gen.  Price, 
who  occupied  the  right,  sent  Bill  with  despatches  to  Shelby,  who 
was  on  the  left.  '  Taking  the  papers  from  the  hands  of  the  gen 
eral,  Bill  saluted  with  all  the  respectful  grace  he  could  command 
and  rode  directly  towards  the  left.  Once  out  of  sight^  however^ 
he  turned  his  course  towards  the  company  in  which  he  had  en- 
listed, and,  addressing  a  certain  braggadocio  sergeant,  said  . 
Jake  Lawson,  come  out  here;  I  want  to  see  you  a  minute.'" 

A  tall,  lank  Arkansan,  whose  joints  appeared  to  be  on  the 
juniping-jack  pattern,  came  lounging  out  of  his  tent. 

'^Whatcher  want?'^  he  enquired;  rolling  a  huge  quid  into  his 
cheekc 

'^I  want  to  have  some  fun,  that's  what.  Let's  astonish  these 
fellers  that  have  never  been  under  fire,  and  give  'em  something 
to  fight  up  to  to-morrow." 

What  shall  it  be — pistols  at  three  paces,  or  hand  to  hand 
with  the  bowic  ?  Jist  what  yer  like.'^ 

^']^To,"  answered  Bill,  with  some  scorn;  "the  general  can't  af 
ford  to  lose  his  men  that  way;  but  I'll  bet  my  horse  agin  yourn 
that  I  kin  ride  closer  to  the  Feds^  line  than  you  kin." 

Humph !"  answered  Lawson,  as  he  took  a  fresh  "chaw,"  and 
turning  on  his  heel  strode  back  into  his  tent. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Jake?  Are  you  afraid?" 

"No,  I  ain't  afearedj  but  what's  the  sence  or  fun  in  such  a 
d — d  trick  as  that  'eref 


MflLD  BILL. 


367 


*'Kone  at  all  for  them  as  as  don't  see  any*  i  |ust  wanted  to  see 
if  you  would  go.'* 

"Kinder  looks  as  ef  Jake  wasn't  the  reel  stuff,  arter  all/' 
remarked  a  bystander,  and  taunt  and  Jeer  soon  drew  Jake  out 
again,  resolved  to  disprove  their  opinion  of  bis  courage.  Anx- 
iously were  the  two  followed  by  the  eyes  of  the  whole  company 
as  they  rode  forward  on  what  seemed  truly  a  fooFs  errand.  As 
they  dashed  onward,  the  Union  pickets  began  to  fire  upon  them. 


TAKING  TO  THE  WATER. 


*Hold  your  fire,''  shouted  the  foremost  man,  "I'm  Wild  Bill, 

trying  to  get  into  the  lines." 

The  Confederate,  thus  apprised  of  his  companion's  character, 
^ir©w  his  pistol  and  took  aim,  but  before  he  could  pull  the  trigger 
a  bullet  went  crashing  through  his  brain,  and  he  reeled  and  fellj 
from  his  horse.  The  riderless  steed  galloped  onward,  and  stoop* 
■ngfrom  his  saddle,  Wild  Bill  caught  the  bridle  and  led  it  beside 
His  own.  The  passage  of  the  creek  was  fraught  with  the  greatest 
danger,  as  his  progress  was  necessarily  slow,  and  the  Confeder- 
ates had  gathered  in  great  force  on  the  bank.  Thick  as  hail  the 
bullets  fell  around  him  from  at  least  fifty  rifles,  but  he  escaped 
tmhurt  to  the  farther  side,   to  eomeg^uence  of  this  exposure  of 


ms 


WILD  BILL. 


their  designs^  the  Confederates  broke  cam^j  that  iiight,  and  re 
treated  farther  towards  the  Arkansas,  swearing  over  the  way  they 
bad  been  deceived. 

\jren.  Curtis  continued  the  pursuit^  and  before  long  desired  Wild 
Bill  to  again  enter  the  Confederate  line.  A.  thorough  disguise 
ivas  of  course  necessary.  Of  exquisite  manly  beauty  of  face  and 
form,  and  very  n^at  about  his  person,  he  made  himself  into  a  first- 
class  specimen  of  the  average  Arkansan  of  the  lowest  class, 
slouchy  in  build  and  bearing.  Accompanied  by  Nat.  Tuckett,  an 
old  friend,  he  again  made  a  wide  circuit  around  the  Confederate 
army,  and  proceeding  to  Texas  enlisted  under  Kirby  Smith. 
That  general  was  about  to  move  up  into  Arkansas,  where  Curtis 
was  still  pressing  Price  and  Shelby,  and  struck  his  tents  a  few 
days  after  Bill  and  his  companion  joined.  Smith  crossed  the 
Arkansas  near  Lewisburg,  and  both  armies  halted  in  line  of 
battle  about  one  thousand  yards  apart.  General  Curtis  began  a 
brisk  shelling,  in  order  to  dislodge  the  enemy  from  the  protect 
tion  of  their  breastworks,  but  the  fire  appeared  to  be  wholly  in« 
effectual. 

For  more  than  an  hour  this  state  of  things  continued.  Sudden* 
ly,  from  the  breastworks  leaped  two  horsemen,  who  rode  at  full 
speed  towards  the  Union  lines.  For  a  moment  the  Federal 
troops  wondered  what  this  meant,  then  their  wild  cheering 
echoed  the  shots  that  the  Rebels  poured  upon  the  riders;  they 
were  trying  to  escape.  Breathlessly  they  watched,  as  a  dozen 
cavalrymen  dashed  after  the  fugitives  j  now  two  of  the  pursuergi 
distance  the  others;  now  the  first  riders  reach  a  broad  ditch;  the* 
horse  of  one  clears  it  at  a  bound,  his  companion  falls,  as  a  bullet 
from  the  pistol  of  one  of  the  nearest  pursuers  whistles  through 
the  air ;  the  remaining  man  wheels  his  horse  around  and  levels 
his  revolver;  he  is  too  far  off  for  them  to  hear  the  reports,  but 
they  see  two  puffs  of  smoke,  and  see  the  two  foremost  gray  coats 
fall  beside  their  horses;  the  others  are  too  far  behind  him  to 
overtake  him,  and  he  rides  into  the  lines  waving  his  hat  in  tri- 
umph ;  but  yet  he  has  a  soldier's  tear  for  his  fallen  comrade, 
whom  he  returns  to  bury. 

Why  did  you  run  such  a  risk?"  asked  his  comrades  of  Wild 
Bill.      You  could  have  stolen  into  our  lines  in  the  night." 

Oh,"  he  answered,  "  mate  and  I  wanted  to  show  them  cussed 
Rebs  what  a  Union  soldier  could  do.  WeVe  been  with  'em  np-qr 
Ibr  m^r^'n  a  moortk^  amd  kmxd  notliiBg  but  brag^  and  w@  thought 


WILD  BILU 


369 


we*d  take  it  out  of  'em.  But  if  they  have  killed  my  mate  thej 
shall  pay  a  big  price  for  it/' 
Asking  and  obtaining  leave  of  absence,  Wild  Bill  went  to 
'  Leavenworth,  where  he  met  young  William  Cody,  better  knowB 
in  later  days  as  Buffalo  Bill.  Their  acquaintance  was  one  of  sev- 
eral years^  standing,  and  each  had  a  high  regard  for  the  other. 
Engaging  to  take  a  Government  train  to  Eolla,  Mo.,  Wild  Bill 
invited  Billy  to  accompany  him,  and  the  offer  was  gladly  ac- 
cepted. The  train  reached  its  destination  in  safety,  and  the  com* 
panions,  aged  respectively  twenty-five  and  seventeen,  continued 
their  journey  to  Saint  Louis,  to  have  some  fun.  Wild  Bill  owned 
a  fine  horse,  that  had  done  good  service  in  scouting  expeditionSj, 
and  finding,  on  their  arrival  in  the  city,  that  the  September  race^' 
would  take  place  in  a  few  days,  decided  to  enter  ^^Old  Moun- 
tain.'' 

Under  no  other  circumstances  is  a  man  so  easily  deceived  at 
when  backing  up  a  fa'^^orite  horse,  and  all  the  funds  of  both  were 
put  up. 

Old  Mountain  ain^t  a  handsome  horse,^'  said  Wild  Bill,  con 
fidentially,  to  Billy,  "  but  I  know  it's  in  him,  though  the  othei 
fellows  don't  suspect  him,  and  are  willing  enough  to  bet  against 
him.    "We'll  make  a  clean  sweep  of  all,  I  know." 

Billy  listened  reverentially ;  who  should  know  anything  aboul 
horses  if  his  "  companion  guide  and  friend"  did  not?  All  theij 
ready  money  was  staked — no  hedging, — and  now  they  bet  th^ 
horse  against  $250  cash.  All  the  proceeds  were  to  be  equally  di 
vided.  At  last  the  eventful  day  came.  Old  Mountain  did  his  best 
urged  onward  by  Billy,  who  certainly  could  not  be  accused  of 
the  tricks  which  some  jockeys  are  said  to  practise,  to  secure  tho 
victory  for  another  and  greater  favorite;  but  the  endeavors  of 
both  were  useless,  and  the  race  was  lost.  Penniless  and  friend- 
less, now,  in  the  midst  of  the  great  city,  our  two  friends  found 
themselves.  There  was  only  one  thing  thatpresented  itself,  and 
upon  the  suggestion  Wild  Bill  immediately  acted.  Going  to  mil- 
itary headquarters  and  re-engaging  himself  as  scout,  he  thus 
secured  twenty  dollars ;  this  sum  he  turned  over  to  the  boy,  for 
whose  pitiable  plight  he  fell  himself  largely  responsible,  and  wha 
was  thus  enabled  to  return  to  Leavenworth.  Bill  proceeded  to  the 
southwest,  and  learning  at  Springfield  that  Gen.  Curtis  was  still 
on  the  Arkansas  Eiver,  reported  to  that  officer  for  duty. 

Curtis  was  extremely  anxious  to  find  out  what  Price  intended 


WIL1>  BILL. 


to  do,  suspecting  that  another  invasion  of  Missouri  was  intended: 
Wild  Bill  was  therefore  despatched,  for  the  third  time,  to  enter 
the  lines  and  obtain  as  much  information  as  possible.  Making 
the  usual  wide  circuit,  he  passed  through  to  Texarkana,  where  he 
represented  himself  as  a  Texas  cattle-drover.  Thence  he  rode 
onward  to  Ouachita  County,  where  he  traded  his  horse  to  an  an- 
cient darkey  for  a  venerable  jack  and  a  dilapidated  suit  of 
clothes,  much  to  the  old  "uncle's^'  astonishment  and  delight 
Exchanging  his  gun  for  one  which  might  almost  serve  Jefferson 
when  Eip  awakes  from  his  long  sleep,  he  arrayed  himself  in  the 
baggy  butternut  trousers,  faded  to  a  dingy  yellow,  but  the  orig- 
inal color  of  which  was  attested  by  an  immense  old  patch  which 
"  old  auntie's unskillful  needle  had  sewn  upon  one  knee ;  in  th^ 
blue  vest,  across  which  ran  broad  stripes  of  red ;  in  the  coat,  match' 
ing  the  ground  of  the  vest  in  hue,  and  ornamented  with  larg^^ 
brass  buttons,  which  might  have  satisfied  the  ladies'  late  passioi 
for  variety  in  such  articles,  since  no  two  were  alike.  The  clean 
shaven  face,  where  the  silky  moustache  had  drooped  in  solitary 
glory,  the  shining  locks  of  darker  hair,  were  no  longer  to  be  seen 
A  rough  brown  mop  covered  the  well-set  head,  a  ragged  beard 
concealed  the  thin  and  sensitive  lips  and  the  firm  jaw.  The  sin- 
gular grace  and  dignity  of  carriage  which  made  his  six  feet  one 
appear  the  ideal  stature  for  a  hero,  was  discarded  for  the  shuffling 
gait  and  slouchy  manner  which  he  well  knew  how  to  assume 
Under  such  a  disguise  as  this,  who  would  recognize  a  man  noted 
for  his  great  personal  beauty  ? 

His  appearance  and  manner,  and  his  offer  to  fight  as  desperate* 
ly  as  a  certain  apocryphal  dog,  of  whose  exploits  he  told  long 
yarns,  if  only  they  would  furnish  him  ammunition,  created  consid- 
erable amusement  among  Price's  men,  who  promised  themselves 
rare  fun  with  this  green  recruit.    But  great  as  was  the  change 
in  his  appearance,  it  was  not  enough  to  conceal  him  from  the  - 
sharp  eyes  of  a  corporal,  who  had  known  him  in  the  days  of 
Jake  Lawson.     Whether  he  unconsciously  resumed  the  easy,  i 
graceful  bearing  which  was  his  by  nature,  or  some  other  circum-  , 
stance  betrayed  that  he  was  not  what  he  pretended  to  be,  certain 
it  is  that  the  corporal's  suspicions  were  aroused,  and  then  confirm- 
ed ;  and  he  was  speedy  in  reporting  at  headquarters  that  Wild 
Bill,  the  Union  spy,  was  in  camp.    JSTo  time  was  to  be  lost,  lest 
the  fearless  scout,  so  valuable  to  the  enemy,  escape;  and  mili* 
tary  law  condemned  him  to  be  executed  the  next  morning. 


WILD  BILL. 


371 


Night  came  on  j  in  a  small  log  hut  lay  the  condemned  man,  his 
arms  securely  pinioned,  and  his  every  movement  watched  by  an 
armed  guard,  lately  his  comrade.  But  Price  had  been  making 
forced  marches,  for  Curtis  was  after  him  with  twice  as  many  men 
as  in  his  army;  and,  tired  out  with  the  long  day's  travel,  the 
guard  fell  asleep.  The  prisoner  was  bound  securely,  and  the 
slightest  movement  would  awaken  him  from  his  doze,  thought 
the  soldier.    Without,  the  wind  howled  and  shrieked,  the  rain 

fell  in  torrents ;  within,  the  pris- 
oner ruefully  thought  over  his 
condition,  saying  to  himself  how 
easy  it  would  be  to  escape  if 
his  hands  were  only  free.  But  as 
he  pulled  and  tugged  at  the 
cords  which  secured  them,  the 
knots  seemed  only  tightened; 
his  wrists  were  cruelly  abraded 
by  the  rough  rope.  A  sudden 
gleam  in  a  far  corner,  as  a 
flash  of  lightning  shows  him,  for 
a  moment,  the  whole  room  wit! 
all  the  distinctness  of  day-iight 
and  stealthily  as  a  panther  h^ 
creeps  towards  it.  The  big  bom 
KILLING  THE  SLEEPING  SENTINEL.  ^^za  Is  au  old,  rusty  casc-knifc; 
of  which  only  a  portion  of  the  blade  remains.  The  handle  is  stuck 
in  the  auger-hole  in  which  the  blade  had  been  partly  hidden,  and 
he  patiently  saws  at  the  rope  about  his  wrists.  Back  and  forth, 
until  the  last  fiber  gives  way ;  then,  his  hands  once  more  free,  he 
grasps  the  knife,  useless  for  the  purpose  of  thrusting,  and  with 
noiseless  step  approaches  the  door,  against  which  leans  the  sleep- 
ing guard.  The  knife  is  drawn  across  the  sentineFs  throat,  and 
from  vein  and  artery  gushes  the  life-blood.  Arraying  himself 
in  the  dead  man's  uniform,^  and  arming  himself  with  the  musket 
that  has  fallen  from  the  lifeless  grasp,  he  makes  his  way,  through 
the  darkness  and  the  storm,  out  of  the  Confederate  lines  to  Cur- 
tis' camp. 

But  Wild  Bill  felt  that  he  was  too  well  known  in  the  Confed- 
erate army  west  of  the  Mississippi  to  make  another  such  attempt 
anything  but  suicidal,  and  though  he  continued  to  scout,  he  pos 
itively  refused  to  enter  the  enemy's  lines  again.    We  hear  of  no 


372 


WILD  BILL. 


special  adventure  until  1864,  when  Price  invaded  Missouri  the 
second  time.  Wild  Bill  was  then  attached  to  the  command  of 
Gen.  Davis,  who  was  only  too  glad  to  secure  his  services. 

One  day  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  the  scout,  weary  of  long  in- 
action, started  out  on  an  independent  expedition.  Eiding  quietly 
along,  he  came  suddenly  upon  three  men,  well-mounted  and 
armed. 

"  Dismount  and  surrender,^^  cried  the  three  in  a  breath.  Then^ 
seeing  a  momentary  hesitation  on  his  part,  they  put  their  hands 
to  their  pistols,  threatening  to  shoot  if  he  delayed  any  farther. 
BilFs  right  hand  had  hung  down  beside  his  horse,  unseen  by  the 
Eebels,  who  were  on  his  left;  it  grasped  his  revolver.  Quick  as 
thought  he  raised  it,  and  they  had  hardly  divined  his  intentions 
before  two  fell  dead,  the  third  wounded  mortally.  The  dying 
man,  nerving  himself  to  one  last  eifort,  pulled  the  trigger  of  hi^ 
pistol,  and  the  bullet  whistled  past  the  scout,  but  without  injur- 
ing him.  Bill  secured  the  three  horses,  and  led  them  back  to 
camp,  where  he  made  report  to  his  commander,  and  turned  ovei 
to  him  the  spoils  of  war.  G-en.  Davis,  suspecting  that  all  wae 
not  right  about  the  horses,  said  to  him,  with  a  sternness  to  which 
Bill  was  unaccustomed  : 

^^You  have  been  out  of  camp  for  four  days  without  leave; 
where  have  you  been,  and  where  did  you  get  those  horses 

Tm  not  a  private  soldier,  and  as  a  scout  I  go  where  I  please. 
Tve  turned  the  horses  over  to  you,  and  it^s  none  of  your  d — — d 
business  where  I  got  ^em.^' 

This  answer  only  seemed  to  increase  the  officer's  suspicion? 
that  the  horses  had  been  stolen,  and  was,  besides,  a  gross  breach 
of  discipline  in  its  disrespect  to  a  superior.  Bill  was  therefore 
sent  to  the  guard-house,  and  ordered  under  arrest  until  furtl^er 
notice.  We  may  imagine  the  general's  surprise  when,  on  mak- 
ing the  rounds  that  night,  to  personally  inspect  the  camp,  he  saw 
Wild  Bill  salute  him  with  the  most  respectful  gravity  that  one 
soldier  could  show  another.  Without^  word  to  the  scout  he  rode 
directly  to  the  guard-house,  and  demanded  of  the  officer  on  duty 
there  why  his  men  had  let  Wild  Bill  escape. 

I  beg  pardon,  sir,''  was  the  answer,  "  but  he  has  not  escaped. 
He  is  still  under  guard." 

Let  me  see  him  for  myself." 

But  in  Bill's  place  they  found  a  man  whose  term  of  arrest  had 
expired  that  evening,  and  who,  to  give  the  popular  soout  his  lib* 


WILD  BILL. 


erty,  had  exchanged  clothes  with  him  and  allowed  him  thus  to 
escape  when  the  twilight  prevented  the  guards  from  detecting 
the  trick;  all  the  more  readily  deceived,  perhaps,  because  not 
unwillingly.  The  soldier's  devotion  was  not  without  its  reward, 
for,  touched  by  the  feeling  displayed.  Gen.  Davis  invited  both 
men  to  headquarters,  and  regaled  them  with  his  choicest  Cognac, 
kept  for  special  occasions.  N"ow  more  courteously  asked,  Bill 
told  all  the  circumstances  of  his  trip,  first  begging  pardon  for 
his  disrespect;  and  at  his  request,  he  was  permitted  to  retain,  for 
his  own  use,  one  of  the  animals.  This  steed,  a  beautiful  black 
mare,  evidently  of  full-blooded  stock,  became  famous  for  her  in- 
telligence and  docility  when  her  owner  rode  her,  though  sh( 
would  permit  no  one  els©  to  back  her.  To  the  training  of  Blacli 
Nell  Bill  devoted  all  his  leisure  time,  and  felt  himself  richly  re- 
paid  by  the  result  reached  in  a  short  time.  The  dropping  of  hi& 
hand  in  her  sight  was  sufficient  to  make  her  crouch  on  the, 
ground,  and  not  s+ir  until  the  signal  was  given  to  rise  ;  pursued 
once  by  bushwhacjsers,  chis  saved  his  life,  as  he  disappeared  from 
sight  in  the  long  grass  of  the  prairies,  and  the  puzzled  pursuers 
passed  him.  So  obedient  was  she,  that  he  once  induced  her  to 
mount  a  billiard  table  in  a  saloon  and  drink  a  quart  of  whiskey. 
This  happened  in  Springfield,  and  even  the  admiring  bystanders 
could  hardly  regret  thattK  ^ood  liquor  should  be  bestowed  on 
such  a  horse. 

The  fact  that  many  Indians  were  employed  in  the  Confederate 
service,  created  some  alarm  in  Kansas,  where  it  was  reported 
that  these  savage  enemies  would  soon  attempt  a  massacre.  A 
Sioux  chief,  Conquerii^g  Bear,  reported  to  Gen.  Curtis,  who  was 
now  at  Leavenworth,  that  the  Choctaws  were  arming,  and  would 
soon  be  upon  the  settlements.  By  Wild  BilFs  urgent  request,  he 
was  permitted  to  go,  unaccompanied  by  any  one  but  Conquering 
Bear,  to  investigate  the  state  of  affairs.  Proceeding,  then,  to  the 
Sioux  camp  near  Lawrence,  the  chief  protested  his  friendship  in 
the  strongest  terms.  Leaving  the  lodges  of  his  people,  they  had 
not  gone  far  when  he  uttered  a  peculiar  whoop  and  disappeared 
in  the  bushes.  Bill  immediately  found  himself  surrounded  by  a 
band  of  the  hostile  Choctaws,  who  rushed  upon  him  from  every 
side.  Only  the  darkness  and  the  wonderful  sagacity  of  Black 
Nell  saved  him,  and  by  giving  the  Choctaw  war-whoop  occasion- 
ally, and  hiding  in  tKe  long  grass,  he  succeeded  in  so  puzzling 
them  as  to  his  location  that  tys  escaped  without  injury. 


374 


WILD  BILL. 


Vowing  vengeance  upon  Conquering  Bear,  he  obtained,  on  re- 
porting  to  Gen.  Curtis,  a  week's  leave  of  absence.  His  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Sioux  language  and  manners  enabled  him  to  find 
an  ally  in  a  young  warrior  of  that  tribe  whom  he  found  on  the 
streets  of  Lawrence.  Liberality  with  whisky  and  trinkets  ce- 
mented the  young  brave's  alliance  with  the  white  man,  and  by 
his  agency  Conquering  Bear  Avas  allured  to  a  lonely  spot  about 
three  miles  from  town,  the  promise  of  a  rich  reward  attracting 
the  chief.  "Without  any  suspicion  of  a  double  meaning  in  this 
expression,  the  Indian  came,  and  as  he  and  the  young  warrior 
paced  slowly  along.  Bill  sprang  from  his  hiding-place.  A  mo- 
ment they  eyed  each  other,  each  seeming  charmed  by  the  other's 
gaze,  as  if  two  rattlesnakes  should  yield  one  to  the  other;  but 
the  dead  silence  was  at  length  broken  by  Bill,  as  he  drew  his 
pistols  and  threw  one  to  the  savage  chief. 

^'  Defend  yourself,  you  treacherous,  lying  red-skin." 

But  Conquering  Bear  knew  too  well  the  deadly  aim  of  his  an- 
tagonist, and  refused  to  fight  with  pistols.  An  effort  to  parley 
was  unavailing. 

"  If  you  don't  fight,  I'll  shoot  you  like  the  good-for  nothing 
dog  that  you  are,"  Bill  hissed  out  from  between  his  teeth,  and  the 
•crembling  Indian  chose  the  bowie  as  the  weapon  to  be  used.  A 
level  spot  was  selected,  and  the  young  Sioux  instructed  to  pre- 
pare it  for  the  duel  by  clearing  it  of  leaves  and  twigs  inside  a  cir- 
cle ten  feet  in  diameter.  The  field  of  battle  was  prepared,  but 
Conquering  Bear  stood  motionless. 

"If  you  don't  come  and  fight  I'll  shoot  you  dead  in  your 
tracks.'^ 

Aroused  to  defense  by  the  threat,  he  leaped  into  the  ring,  knife 
in  hand,  and  the  fight  began.  As  the  white  man,  stepping  one 
foot  forward,  made  a  pass  with  the  long,  keen-edged  blade,  the 
Indian  drew  back  as  if  to  make  a  rush  at  him ;  now  with  a  tiger- 
ish thirst  for  blood  each  leaps  upon  the  other,  his  left  arm  clasp- 
ing his  antagonist's  body,  his  right  hand  holding  his  knife,  the 
two  blades  edge  to  edge.  So  they  cling  together,  each  striving 
to  secure  some  advantage,  however  trifling;  but  in  vain;  they  are 
too  evenly  matched  for  that,  and  as  the  tense  muscles,  that  have 
stood  out  in  great  ridges  on  the  white  and  the  dusky  body,  relax, 
they  rest  a  moment.  The  gray  eyes  gleam  like  steel  as  they 
turn  with  every  movement  of  the  savage,  and  the  dark  orbs  of 
the  Indian  are  no  less  watchful.    Ten  minutes  pass,  and  Conquer- 


WILD  BILL. 


}ng  Bear  again  springs  forward.  Wild  Bill  is  not  unready  for  the  at- 
tackj  and  once  more  the  two  broad  and  shining  blades  clash  and 
flash  in  the  sun-light.  Both  saw  that  the  grasp  with  which  they 
had  held  each  other  would  mean  certain  death  to  the  weaker,  and 
each  distrusted  his  own  muscular  power  as  contrasted  with  that 
of  his  assailant,  so  that  both  avoided  the  method  first  adopted, 
and  by  vigorous  passes  endeavored  to  surprise  his  antagonist. 

For  some  time  each  was 
on  his  guard,  so  that  the 
passes  of  his  enemy  were 
in  vainj  at  last  Bill  sees 
his  opportunity,  and 
cuts  at  the  Indian's  heart; 
but  a  medal  on  the  broad, 
tawny  breast  received  the 
blow,  and  the  knife  glanc- 
ed aside,  though  not  with- 
out inflicting  a  gash  sev- 
eral inches  long  in  the 
chiefs  side.  But  the  thrust, 
so  nearly  successful,  has 
exposed  his  own  body, 
and  the  savage  makes  a 
desperate  lunge  at  his  an- 
tagonist's heart.  The 
scout's  left  arm,  however, 
CONQUERING  BEAR.  has  scrved  as  a  shield  for 

the  more  vital  part,  and  the  flesh  is  stripped  from  the  bone,  from 
the  shoulder  half-way  to  the  elbow.  Still  they  fought  on,  though 
both  grew  weaker  and  weaker  every  moment,  as  the  blood  flowed 
from  these  terrible  wounds  to  the  ground.  Conquering  Bear 
saw  that  victory  must  come  quickly  if  it  precede  death,  and 
once  more  made  a  pass  at  the  scout's  heart;  but  the  blow  was 
skillfully  parried,  and  in  another  instant  the  keen  edge  of  the 
white  man's  knife  was  drawn  across  the  tawny  throat ;  for  a  mom- 
ent the  swarthy  form  swayed  in  the  air,  the  head  thrown  back- 
ward, then  fell  to  the  earth,  the  blood  gushing  from  the  ghastly 
wound. 

The  young  Sioux  bound  up  Wild  Bill's  arm,  and  they  proceed- 
ed to  Lawrence,  where  more  skillful  surgical  aid  was  obtained ;  but 
for  many  a  year  he  felt  the  consequences  of  the  terrible  gash* 


WILD  BILL. 


Through  the  next  year  or  two  we  need  not  follow  him,  since  the 
period  was  marked  by  no  adventure  of  interest.  Peacefully  trap- 
ping among  the  Sioux  on  the  Niobrara,  the  young  warrior  who 
had  been  with  him  when  he  fought  Conquering  Bear  was  his  con- 
stant companion;  while  this  friend's  sister,  the  ideal  Indian  mai- 
den, pure  and  beautiful,  was  untiring  in  her  devotion  to  the 
handsome  white  stranger.  Eeturning  to  the  states.  Bill  went 
directly  to  Springfield,  Mo.,  then  (1866)  noted  for  its  gambling 
dens  and  gamblers.  Our  hero  was  by  no  mef:,ns  averse  to  this 
amusement  or  occupation,  whichever  it  may  be  t(^rmed,  and  threw 
himself,  heart  and  soul,  into  the  popular  diversion.  This  town, 
never  noted  as  particularly  quiet,  was  then  the  rendezvous  for 
the  most  desperate  of  those  Missourians  who  had  been  in  either 
army.  Ultra-loyalty  was  the  guiding  principle  of  the  Eegulators, 
a  band  of  men  in  the  service  of  the  state,  but  paid  out  of  the 
national  treasury,  who  had  adopted  as  their  war-cry;  A  swift 
bullet  and  a  short  rope  for  returned  Eebels  V  This  feeling  was 
doubtless  in  consequence  of  the  severity  which,  in  the  early  days 
of  the  war,  the  Southern  sympathizers^^  had  treated  all  who 
seemed  at  all  loyally  disposed.  It  was  the  old  story  of  every 
wsly:  the  non-combatants  nursing  their  wrath  to  keep  it  warm;'' 
ihe  real  fighters  brave  and  determined  soldiers,  but  ready  to  ac- 
cept peace  as  better  than  war. 

When  the  war  closed  I  buried  the  hatchet,'^  said  our  hero, 
^and  I  won't  fight  now  unless  I'm  put  upon." 

It  may  be  readily  guessed  from  this  that  he  was  not  aEegula- 
tor,  but  one  of  the  law  and  order  party. 

Among  the  denizens  of  Springfield  was  a  certain  Dave  Tutt, 
who  had  been  a  Eebel  scout.  Bill  had  killed  Dave's  mate,  and 
there  was  no  love  lost  between  them.  Dave  had  tried  for  some 
time  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  Bill,  but  with  a  laudable  anxiety  to 
keep  out  of  a  fight,  our  hero  had  rather  avoided  him;  especially 
by  refusing  to  play  cards  with  him,  since  he  well  knew  how  easily 
a  difiiculty  could  be  raised  in  such  a  case.  One  night,  as  Bill  was 
sitting  in  the  saloon  which  both  were  accustomed  to  frequent, 
playing  poker  with  an  acquaintance  of  both,  he  took  out  his 
watch,  and  laying  it  on  the  table,  said : 

^^ril  play  you  a  twenty-five  dollar  limit  until  one  of  us  is  broke, 
or  until  twelve  o'clock.    I  can't  play  any  later  than  that."" 

His  antagonist  agreed  to  this,  and  according  to  one  of  the  pro- 
posed conditions,  the  game  would  have  come  to  an  end  very  soon, 


WILD  BILL, 


as  Bill,  in  a  very  short  time,  completely  cleaned  him  out;  but  Tutt 
fcitood  behind  the  loser,  and  lent  him  money  to  continue  the  game. 
More  than  two  hundred  dollars  had  changed  hands  in  this  way, 
when  Tutt,  exasperated  by  the  ill  luck  of  the  man  he  had  been 
backing,  said: 

^^Bill,  youVe  got  plenty  of  money, — ^pay  me  that  forty  dollars 
yer  owe  me  in  that  horse  trade." 

Bill  handed  out  the  bills,  and  Tutt  continued,  in  an  insulting 
manner: 


SPOnLIN-G  FOR  A  FIGHT. 

'^Yer  owe  me  thirty-five  dollars  more;  yer  lost  itplayin'  with 
me  t'other  night,  don't  yer  remember?" 

"I  think  yer  wrong,  Dave,"  answered  Bill,  quietly;  ^^it's  only 
twenty-five  dollars.  Yer  saw  me  set  down  how  much  I  overbet. 
and  here's  the  figgers  for  it." 

Dave  afiswered  not  a  word,  until  he  had  possessed  himself  of 
Bill's  watch  •  then : 


WILD  BILL. 


"  Fll  keep  this  here  watch  until  yer  pay  me  that  thirty-five 
dollars/' 

^'  I  don't  want  to  make  a  row  here/'  said  Bill,  in  a  low,  deter- 
mined voice;  ^^it's  a  decent  house,  and  I  don't  want  to  injure  the 
keeper.    You'd  better  put  that  watch  back  on  the  table." 

With  an  ugly  grin,  Tutt  put  the  watch  in  his  pocket  and  walk, 
ed  off  wixhout  a  word.  The  scout^s  face  was  white  with  rage,  but 
by  a  strong  effort  he  controlled  himself,  and  not  all  the  persua- 
sions of  the  bystanders  could  induce  him  to  fight.  For  two  days 
he  kept  close  in  his  room,  anxious  to  keep  out  of  a  fight  if  it  were 
at  all  possible  ;  but  when  one  of  them  said  to  him  : 

"  Dave  Tutt  says  he's  a  goin'  tor  pack  that  watch  across  the 
fejquar'  at  noon  ter-morrer,  and  tell  folks  when  its  twelve  o'clock." 

Human  nature  could  bear  it  no  longer. 

^^Dave  Tutt  shan't  pack  that  watch  across  the  square  unless 
dead  men  kin  walk." 

A  little  before  noon,  the  next  day,  having  cleaned  and  loaded 
his  pistols.  Bill  made  his  way  to  the  public  square,  where  he 
found  a  considerable  crowd  of  Tutt's  friends  and  relatives.  Many 
dnd  loud  were  the  jeers  with  which  they  saluted  him,  but  Bill 
had  not  come  to  exchange  words  with  them.  As  he  came  up 
from  the  south,  he  saw  Tutt  standing  on  the  west  side,  near  the 
courthouse.  Unaccompanied,  Dave  started  across  the  open  space, 
and  Bill  moved  towards  him.  Tutt  then  showed  his  pistol,  but 
before  he  could  point  it,  Bill  was  equally  well  prepared.  Dead 
silence  reigned,  as  the  bystanders  breathlessly  waited  to  see 
which  would  shoot  first.  Both  were  famous  shots,  and  the  two 
reports  were  so  close  together  that  the  spectators  could  not  tell 
ivhich  fired  first;  but  when  they  saw  Tutt  reel  and  fall,  they 
knew  that  he  had,  in  dying,  thrown  up  his  arm  so  that  his  bullet 
went  over  his  antagonist's  head,  and  that  Bill  had  fired  before 
Dave  had  pulled  the  trigger. 

But,  confident  of  his  marksmanship.  Wild  Bill  did  not  wait  to 
see  the  effect  of  his  shot.  Wheeling  around,  with  his  revolver 
still  leveled,  he  said  to  Tutt's  friends,  who  had  already  drawn 
their  weapons  : 

"  Ain't  you  satisfied,  gentlemen  ?  Put  up  yer  shootin''  irons,  or 
there'll  be  more  dead  mon  here." 

It  war  a  fair  fight,''  they  said,  as  they  obediently  ^*  put  up 
their  shootin'  irons." 

With  a  most  praiseworthy  desire  for  justice,  Bill  delivered  him- 


WILD  BILL. 


self  Tip  to  the  law ;  he  was  tried  the  next  day,  and  acquitted, 
since  fee  had  acted  ir.  self-defense.  The  decision  of  the  jury  was 
based  rather  uj)on  the  golden  rule  than  upon  any  legal  form  or 
precedent,  but  like  many  of  the  same  kind,  it  gave  entire  satis- 
faction to  all  concerned. 

Leaving  Springfield  shortly  after  this,  Wild  Bill  again  went  to 
trapping  in  Nebraska,  but  only  for  a  brief  period.  Having  little 
luck  where  he  first  tried  for  beaver,  he  determined  to  change  hia 


location,  and  on  his  way  to  the  southeastern  portion  of  the  ter- 
ritory, as  it  was  then,  hitched  his  horse  before  a  country  saloon, 
went  in  and  called  for  a  drink.  With  an  expression  of  curiosity 
on  his  face,  the  saloon-keeper  set  out  the  black  bottle  and  the 
glass,  which  Bill  proceeded  to  use.  As  he  raised  the  glass  to  his 
lips,  a  sudden  push  in  the  back  splashed  the  liquor  into  his  face, 
and  sent  him  staggering  against  the  counter.  One  of  the  half- 
dozen  herders,  all  half-drunk,  had  taken  this  means  to  express 
their  resentment  at  the  stranger^s  lack  of  courtesy  in  drinking  by 
himself,  when  he  might  have  company  for  the  asking.  A  well- 
directed  blow,  planted  full  between  the  eyes,  sent  the  herder 
reeling  backwaid  over  the  boxes  on  which  he  and  his  compaii' 


380 


WILD  BlLi 


ions  had  been  lounging.    Turning  to  the  other  herders,  Bill  en* 

deavored  to  convince  them  that  this  was  a  perfectly  proper  mode 
of  proceeding,  but  they  would  not  listen  to  him. 

^>  If  yer  don't  believe  me,  then,  I  tell  yer  what  Fll  do.  Til 
fight  any  four  of  yer  with  pistols  at  five  or  fifteen  paces,  just  as 
you  like.'' 

"All  right,''  answered  the  men,  sobering  up  at  the  prospect 
of  a  fight.  The  bar-keeper  was  chosen  umpire,  the  distance — fif- 
teen paces — marked  off,  and  the  combatants  posted. 

"  Air  ye  all  ready  ?   One,  two,  three — fire !" 

As  the  sound  of  the  last  word  died  away,  one  man  fell  dead, 
but  a  ball  had  pierced  Bill's  right  shoulder,  so  that  that  arm  fell, 
limp  and  useless,  to  his  side;  but  using  his  left  hand  with  as 
much  dexterity  as  his  right,  he  fired  three  shots  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, each  one  taking  effect.  Only  one  of  his  antagonists  surviv- 
ed, and  he  was  badly  wounded.  Bill  set  out  on  the  same  day 
towards  Kansas  City,  judging  that  that  was  not  a  wholesome 
neighborhood  for  him ;  and  remained  at  that  place  until  his 
W^ound  was  so  far  healed  that  he  was  able  to  accompany  an  ex- 
pedition against  the  Cheyennes  under  Black  Kettle.  Gens.  Carr 
and  Primrose  were  the  commanders  of  the  two  forces,  Wild  Bill 
and  Buffalo  Bill  being  each  chief  of  scouts  in  a  division.  Hotly 
pursued  for  more  than  a  month,  the  Indians  were  at  last  brought 
to  bay  on  the  north  side  of  the  Washita^  in  Indian  Territory, 
fv^here  they  had  placed  themselves  in  such  a  strong  position  that 
the  most  desperate  fighting  was  required  to  dislodge  them.  But 
i  charge  from  both  front  and  rear  ?/u  once  drove  them  out  of  the 
woods,  and  though  the  advantage  had  only  been  gained  with 
great  loss  to  the  troops,  the  yells  of  the  soldiers  seemed  to  say 
that  they  did  not  intend  to  stop  fighting  until  the  Indians  were 
defeated.  The  two  scouts,  both  famous  for  their  marksmanship, 
did  good  execution  upon  the  Indians  fleeing  from  covert  to 
covert.  With  reckless  courage  they  charged  into  the  midst  of 
the  hostiles,  firing  with  deadly  effect  as  they  rode. 

The  Cheyenne  chief  saw  his  warriors  falling  thick  around  him, 
and  knew  there  was  no  hope  of  victory.  The  Indian  lacks  the 
stubborn  courage  of  the  white  man;  the  savage  seldom,  if  ever, 
fights  as  Custer  and  his  men  fought  on  the  Little  Big  Horn ;  and 
now  Black  Kettle  turned  and  fled  for  his  life.  After  him,  regard- 
less  alike  of  tomahawks,  spears  and  rifles,  rode  Wild  Bill.  Black 
Nell  shows  her  mettle  j  ug  to  tke  chief's  side  rides  the  scout,  and 


WILD  BILL. 


into  the  chief's  heart  is  plunged  his  knife.    But  a  spear  has 

pierced  his  hip,  and  he  is  almost  unhorsed ;  only  the  timely  as- 
sistance of  his  friend  and  brother  scout,  Buifalo  Bill,  saves  him 
from  the  certain  death  which  stares  him  in  the  fkce.  He  had 
hoped  to  secure  the  chief 's  scalp,  but  it  is  impossible;  the  poi« 
soned  spear  has  made  so  painful  and  dangerous  a  wound  that  he 
must  be  taken  back  to  Fort  Hays  in  an  ambulance. 

Still  suffering  from  the  two  old  wounds  that  he  had  received  in 
his  fight  with  Conquering  Bear  and  in  the  Nebraska  duel.  Bill 
concluded  to  return  to  his  old  home  in  Illinois  i^r  a  visit.  On 
this  scene  we  draw  the  curtain  3  the  mother's  welcome  of  the  son 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  fourteen  years,  who  had  in  that  time 
encountered  so  many  dangers  —  on  this,  strangers  have  no  right 
to  look.  His  fight  at  Chicago  with  a  band  of  seven  roughs  we 
omit  for  a  different  reason  ;  it  presents  no  points  of  special  inter- 
est  beyond  the  fact  that  while,  before  the  fight,  they  were  ex- 
tremely curious  to  know  the  antecedents  of"  Leather-breeches,'^ 
when  he  had  gotten  hold  of  a  billiard-cue  they  were  perfectly 
satisfied  with  what  they  had  learned  of  the  man  himself ;  at  least, 
they  did  not  ask  him  any  more  questions. 

The  fact  that  he  received  and  accepted  an  invitation  to  act  a? 
guide  to  Vice-President  Wilson  and  his  party,  in  their  trip  to  the 
far  west,  shows  conclusively  how  wide-spread  was  his  reputation^ 
but  what  were  adventures  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  that 
party,  were  incidents  of  every-day  life  to  Wild  Bill,  and  it  is  not 
until  his  return  to  Hays  City  that  we  find  characteristic  events 
recorded  of  him.  Here,  in  this  frontier  town  of  nearly  two  thou- 
sand  inhabitants,  where  there  were  nearly  a  hundred  gambling 
dens,  and  the  saloons  were  innumerable,  fights,  often  terminating 
fatally,  were  of  such  every-day  occurrence  that  the  people  de- 
cided that  they  must  have  a  marshal  to  regulate  affairs.  It  was 
hardly  necessary  to  determine  that  it  must  be  a  man  with  a  rep- 
utation to  fill  the  position,  and  Wild  Bill's  qualifications  being 
esteemed  the  most  satisfactory,  he  was  elected  to  the  ofiice  in 
September,  1869. 

"I  kin  clean  out  Hays  City,  and  its  marshal,  too,^'  boasted  one 
Jack  Strawhan,  whom  Wild  Bill  had  once  assisted  in  arresting. 
"I'll  git  even  with  that  feller  yit.'' 

These  threats  were  duly  reported  to  Bill,  and  he  was  not  un* 
prepared,  when,  some  six  weeks  after  his  election,  he  saw  Straw- 
han enter  the  saloon  in  which  he  was  drinking  with  a  party  of 


WILD  BIU* 


friends.  The  desperado  strolled  up  towards  the  bar  with  as  much 
indifference  as  he  could  put  into  his  manner,  and  was  within  ten 
feet  of  Bill,  when,  thinking  himself  unnoticed,  he  drew  a  heavy 
navy.  But  Bill's  sharp  eyes  had  not  lost  a  single  movement,  and 
almost  before  the  revolver  was  cocked,  a  bullet  went  crashing 
through  his  skull  to  his  brain. 

"  Come  up,  boys,  let's  all  take  a  drink,^^  said  the  marshal,  turn- 
ing coolly  to  the  bar  again,  and  the  coroner's  jury,  that  very  day, 
returned  a  verdict  of  "  served  him  right.'' 

Akin  to  this  was  the  case  of  the  bully  who  wanted  to  run  Hays 
City.  One  part  of  the  town,  dismayed  at  the  spectacle  of  a  half- 
drunken  man  flourishing  two  pistols,  had  consented  to  be  run," 
but  one  thoughtful  individual  went  to  find  the  marshal.  That  of- 
ficial, in  defiance  of  the  laws  which  appear  to  govern  all  conser- 
vators of  the  peace,  was  easily  found,  and  readily  obeyed  the* 
summons.  As  Mulvey,  the  desperado,  went  yelling  through  the 
streets,  pointing  his  pistols  at  all  who  were  not  sufficiently  re* 
spectful,  he  was  approached  by  Wild  Bill,  and  heard  his  quiel 
tones  saying : 

^'  Stranger,  I  shall  have  to  arrest  you  for  disturbing  the  peace. 
Come  with  me.'' 

^'  Well,  now,  stranger,  suppose  you  come  with  me.  I  reckon  I'vq 
got  the  winning  hand." 

That's  so,"  answered  Bill,  ruefully,  as  he  looked  into  the 
muzzles  of  the  two  pistols,    I  can't  beat  that  pair." 

"No,  I  reckon  you  can't,  and  since  you  are  so  fresh  it  will  be 
a  good  thing  for  me  to  hang  you  up  to  dry.    March  !" 

"  Don't  hit  him,  boys,  he's  only  in  fun,"  said  Bill,  as  if  to  dep- 
recate an  attack  on  Mulvey  from  the  rear.  The  desperado  turn- 
ed to  see  the  "  boys  "  who  were  not  there,  and  fell  dead  as  a  bul- 
let from  Bill's  pistol  went  home  to  his  brain.  So  detestable  had 
Mulvey  rendered  himself  that  the  citizens  would  hold  no  inquest 
over  his  remains.  No  honor  could  be  too  great  for  the  man  who 
had  rid  the  town  of  two  such  characters  as  Strawhan  and  Mulvey, 
and  Bill  met  with  thanks  on  every  side  for  thus  securing  peace 
to  the  town.  His  duties  were  easy  for  some  months  after  this 
occurrence. 

The  chief  trouble  came  from  the  soldiers,  who  were  stationed 
about  a  mile  from  Hays  City,  and  who  did  not  regard  themselves 
as  amenable  to  civil  law.  Wild  Bill  had  arrested  several  of  the 
worst  cases,  at  different  times^  and  had  thus  aroused  their  bitter- 


83 

^est  enmity.  It  was  in  February,  1870,  that  he  said  to  a  big  ser 
geant,  who  was  becoming  uproarious,  just  what  he  had  said  to 
the  desperado  Mulvey* 

"How  much  do  you  weigh,  Mr.  Long-Hair asked  the  sol- 
dier, astonished  at  his  **  cheek." 

"  A  hundred  and  sixty-five  when  I'm  in  a  good  humor/*  re- 
plied Bill,  "but  my  fighting  size  is  something  more  than  a  ton  j 
you  come  along  with  me.*' 


WILD  bill's  fight  WITH  FIFTEEN  SOLDIERS. 


"I  won't  go  with  you  now,'^  answered  the  sergeant,  "  but  I'll 
fight  you  in  front  of  this  saloon;  and  if  you  whip  me^  Til  go  with 
you ;  and  if  I  whip  you,  you'll  come  with  me.'' 

"Fight,  fight,  let  'em  fight?  A  fair  fight,  now,"  broke  in  a 
chorus  of  a  do^en  soldiers.  There  was  no  getting  out  of  it;  in 
spite  of  his  peaceful  propensities  Wild  Bill  must  yield  to  the  ma- 
jority. All  weapons  were  left  in  charge  of  the  saloon-keeper, 
and  the  fistic  encounter  began.  But  while  the  soldiers  had  been 
so  anxious  to  have  the  fight  begin,  when  they  saw  how  it  went 
on,  they  were  equally  anxious  to  end  it.  Fourteen  of  them  came 
to  the  rescue  of  their  officer,  and  it  might  have  farea  worse  for 
Bill  had  not  the  saloon-keep^Ti  saeii^  the  immense  oads  against 


WILD  BILL. 


Lis  friend,  gathered  up  EilFs  pistols  and,  at  great  risk  to  himself, 
pushed  through  the  crowd  with  them.  One  of  the  soldiers  wenf 
down  at  the  first  shot. 

^^Look  out!^'  cried  the  crowd  around  them,  "  he's  got  a  pistol.'* 

It  was  a  totally  unnecessary  warning,  for  before  the  words 
were  well  uttered,  two  more  fell.  The  remaining  soldiers  drew 
their  pistols,  and  as  Bill  retreated,  firing  as  he  went,  seven  balls 
struck  him.  Smoky  Eiver  was  the  bar  of  safety  which  he  had  at 
last  placed  between  himself  and  his  pursuers,  and  after  swim- 
ming this  he  dragged  himself  painfully  onward. 

Se(SPeting  himself  in  a  buifalo  wallow,  he  tore  up  part  of  his 
clothes  to  bandage  his  wounds.  Exposed  to  the  bitter  cold,  he 
lay  here  for  two  days,  suffering  the  most  intense  agony  from  his 
fevered  wounds  ;  then,  weak  from  loss  of  blood  and  fasting,  he 
tore  loose  the  bandages,  now  frozen  stiff,  from  the  ground  to 
which  they  had  stuck,  and  wrapping  his  feet,  from  which  he  had 
been  obliged  to  cut  his  boots,  in  his  undershirt,  with  slow  and 
painful  steps  toiled  onward  to  the  ranche  of  a  friend.  Knocking 
at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  it  was  with  a  troubled  face  that  his  host 
received  him,  for  but  little  could  be  done.  Not  knowing  that  he 
had  been  wounded,  G-en.  Sheridan  had  i^sueo  an  order  to  bring 
in  the  marshal,  dead  or  alive ;  it  was  supposed  tBat  a  long  chase 
would  be  necessary,  and  they  had  not  thought  of  searching  for 
him  so  near  home.  For  three  weeks  he  lay  in  the  loft  of  the 
little  cabin,  tenderly  cared  for,  and  entirely  unsuspected  of  being 
in  the  neighborhood.  When  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  to 
travel,  he  went  in  a  box-car  to  Junction  City,  and  remained 
there  until  he  had  completely  recovered. 

The  western  climate  had  proved  unhealthful  to  *iim,  and  when 
his  wounds  were  healed,  Bill  determined  to  go  east.  Some  occu- 
pation was  necessary,  and  he  determined  to  take  to  Niagara 
Falls  a  number  of  Buffalo,  and  some  Comanche  Indians,  that  the 
visitors  there  might  be  entertained,  and  he  be  enriched  by  a  buf- 
falo hunt  such  as,  under  ordinary  circum.stances,  could  be  seen 
only  on  the  plains.  The  work  of  catching  the  huge  wild  animals 
proved  more  difficult  than  he  had  expected,  but  at  last  six  were 
secured,  and  four  Comanches  employed ;  one  of  them  being  the  pos 
sessor  of  a  tame  cinnamon  bear,  and  another  of  a  monkey,  which 
were  added  to  the  menagerie.  Trusting  that  the  voluntary  con- 
tributions of  the  crowd  would  be  amply  sufficient^  he  built  only 
a  slight  fence  around  the  ground  where  the  mock  hunt  was  to 


WTLD  BILL.  ' 

take  place  ;  but  the  expense  exceeded  the  receipts  by  more  than 
a  thousand  dollars,  and  after  having  spent  all  the  money  he  had 
in  preparation,  he  was  obliged  to  sell  out  to  pay  his  hotel  bill. 

Returning  to  the  West,  and  stopping  at  Abilene,  Kansas,  he  was 
agreeably  surprised  when  they  proposed  to  appoint  him  marshal, 
for  some  source  of  income  was  necessary;  his  buffalo  venture 
had  left  him  dead  broke.  Abilene  was,  if  anything,  worse  than 
Hays  City  had  been  when  Bill  first  entered  upon  the  same  offic# 
there.  Being  the  central  point  from  which  the  cattle  raised  in  tha 
Southwest  were  shipped,  the  herders  were  about  the  worst  class 
of  visitors  that  ever  afflicted  a  town.  "Within  two  days,  Bill  had 
signalized  his  appointment  by  killing  a  desperado  who  was  mak- 
ing things  extremely  lively;  and  a  chance  shot  from  Bill  killed 
his  own  deputy.  The  companion  of  the  first  desperado  also  pro- 
voked his  own  death  by  an  endeavor  to  avenge  his  friend.  Af- 
ter this  triple  tragedy  there  was  comparative  quiet  in  Abilene  for 
several  weeks. 

But  peace  was  impossible  in  such  a  place,  and  late  in  Decern" 
ber,  1870,  there  was  an  extensive  riot,  in  which,  as  usual.  Bill 
came  off  victor.  But  so  enraged  was  one  man  at  the  bodily  in- 
juries that  had  been  inflicted  upon  him  that  he  swore  he  would 
have  Wild  Bill's  heart.  Returning  to  his  Texas  ranche,  ke  called 
a  council  of  eight  men  whom  he  knew  were  well  fitted  for  his 
purpose,  and  giving  each  one  fifty  dollars  to  pay  expenses  to 
Abilene,  promised  to  divide  five  thousand  dollars  among  them 
when  any  of  their  number  should  have  killed  Wild  Bill  and 
brought  his  heart  to  the  Texan  as  proof.  In  high  feather  they 
started  out,  but  being  in  possession  of  so  much  more  money  than 
any  of  them  had  ever  had  before,  perhaps,  they  got  gloriously 
drunk  before  they  had  been  two  hours  in  Abilene.  With  all  the 
self-importance  of  a  tipsy  rough,  one  of  them  boasted  that  they 
had  come  on  important  business. 

"What  is  it?^'  asked  a  loafer. 

But  the  rough  only  shook  his  head  with  drunken  gravity.  The 
crowd  caught  up  the  question,  and  pressed  him  hard,  until,  un- 
able to  longer  contain  himself,  he  burst  out  with: 

"We're  a'goin^  to  shoot  Wild  Bill  and  take  his  heart  to  Texas, 
for  his  d — d  interference  with  folks  he  ought  ter  let  alone." 

Bill  had  no  lack  of  friends  in  Abilene,  one  of  whom  lost  no  time 
in  telling  him  what  the  Texan  had  said.  BilFs  resolution  was 
immediately  taken. 


386 


WILD  BILL. 


Go  back  to  the  crowd  and  tell  them,  quiet  like,  so's  not  to 
make  ^em  suspect  anything,  that  I'm  a  goin^  down  ter  Topeka  by 
the  nine  o^clock  express,  to  git  some  new  pistols,  for  mine  ain't 
any  account;  they're  worn  out,  I  reckouo'' 

The  information  was  conveyed  to  the  party,  and  they  took  the 
hint.  Sobering  up  as  rapidly  as  possible,  they  laid  their  plans. 
Bill  was  fond  of  cards,  and  could  be  readily  induced  to  pass  from 
one  car  to  another  in  order  to  join  in  a  game  with  one  of  them; 
lurking  enemies  on  the  platform;  a  sudden  stab  in  the  darkness; 
a  body  thrown  from  the  train  as  it  rushed  by;  eight  men  leaving 
the  car  at  the  next  station,  and  returning  through  the  darkness 
of  the  winter  night  to  complete  their  hellish  work,  unwitnessed 
by  mortal  eye.  But  Bill  was  on  his  guard.  About  ten  or  eleve' 
o'clock,  he  left  the  car  in  which  he  was  sitting,  and  with  a  pistui 
in  each  hand,  went  to  that  in  which  he  knew  he  would  find  his 
would-be  assassins.  Satisfying  himself  of  their  exact  position, 
he  threw  open  the  door  and  walked  up  the  aisle  toward  them- 
Covering  the  gang  with  his  pistols,  he  said : 

"Now,  you  scoundrels,  get  out  of  this  car,  or  FU  put  a  bullet 
in  each  one  of  you.    Leave  the  train  instantly.'' 

His  tone  was  so  quiet  that  it  would,  of  itself,  have  attracted 
no  attention  from  bystanders,  but  they  saw  shoot  in  his  eyes,, 
and  prudently  retreated  backward  to  the  door  of  the  car. 

"Jump,'*  he  commanded,  as  they  hesitated  a  moment  on  tha 
platform,  and  the  muzzles  gleamed  ominously  in  the  flickering 
light  from  the  next  car.  The  train  was  rushing  over  the  level 
prairie  at  a  fearful  rate,  but  certain  death  awaited  them  here, 
while  that  might  give  each  a  chance  for  life.  Into  the  darkness, 
then,  each  man  leaped  as  the  train  sped  onward ;  one  was  killed 
outright,  three  badly  hurt  by  the  fall ;  but  if  they  had  not  jumped, 
there  would  have  been  none  that  escaped. 

But  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  follow  him  farther  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  time  that  he  was  in  Abilene,  or  when  he  became 
United  States  marshal  of  Hays  City.  His  name  was  so  well 
known  that  in  most  cases  the  statement  that  Wild  Bill  was  com- 
ing, was  enough  to  quiet  a  row  at  once.  If  the  quarrel  was  not 
stopped,  he  would  say,  on  coming  up : 

"  See  here,  boys,  this  has  gone  far  enough  now." 

If  an  unusually  desperate  ruffian  still  manifested  a  desire  for 
more  fight,  the  soft  tones  would  again  be  heard : 

"If  you  want  any  more,  nere  I  am.  You  can  settle  with  me." 


WILD  BILL. 


But  the  invitation  was  seldom  accepted.  A  man  who  shot  so 
quickly  and  well  as  "Wild  Bill  was  most  thoroughly  respected, 
even  in  that  wild  western  town. 

Joining  the  Buffalo  Bill  combination  in  1873-4,  stage-fright,  at 
first,  was  a  serious  drawback  to  success,  but  in  one  of  his  earliest 
performances  he  made  a  decided  hit.  Buffalo  Bill,  Texas  Jack 
and  "Wild  Bill  were,  in  one  scene,  represented  as  sitting  around 
a  camp-fire,  telling  stories;  at  the  end  of  each  adventure  related, 
the  bottle  was  duly  passed,  but  "Wild  Bill  failed  to  comprehend 
the  necessity  for  property"  whiskey.  Taking  a  drink,  he  said, 
with  great  indignation,  in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard  all  over 
the  house: 

"You  must  think  that  I  am  i  worst  fool  east  of  the  Eockies, 
that  I  can't  tell  whiskey  from  cold  tea.  This  don't  count,  smd^ 
can't  tell  a  story  unless  I  get  real  whiskey." 

The  building  shook  with  the  plaudits  of  the  audience,  and  whe^ 
Buffalo  Bill  had  procured  some  "real  whiskey,"  the  play  went 
on  with  a  first-class  story  that  Wild  Bill  related.  This  was  only 
one  instance  of  his  disregard  of  stage  conventionalities ;  another 
was  his  mischievous  practice  of  firing  so  close  at  the  "  Indians" 
that  the  poor  supes  were  nearly  frightened  to  death.  Eeproved 
by  Buffalo  Bill  for  this,  he  exchanged  his  stage  suit  of  buckskin 
for  his  ordinary  street  dress,  and  walked  out  of  the  theater, 
leaving  the  stage  carpenter  to  inform  the  principal  actor  that 
"the  long-haired  gentleman  that  just  went  out  told  me  to  give 
you  his  respects  and  tell  you  to  go  to  thunder  with  your  old 
show."  His  second  appearance  on  the  stage  was  due  to  an  un-i 
successful  attempt  upon  a  faro  bank  in  New  York,  but  the  "Wild 
Bill  Combination"  was  not  of  long  life. 

Eeturning  to  the  West,  he  went  to  -Kansas  City,  thence  to 
Cheyenne,  where  he  remained  a  short  time,  but  soon  decided  to 
go  to  mining  in  the  Black  Hills,  where  gold  had  been  recently 
discovered;  a  treasure  soon  to  be  bought  with  blood  from  the 
Sioux  and  Blackfeet.  Encamping  with  two  companions  in  this 
debatable  land,  he  one  day  went  to  the  creek,  about  a  hundred 
yards  away,  for  a  supply  of  water.  Stooping  to  dip  the  water 
from  a  hole  in  the  ice,  he  spied,  trotting  up  the  creek,  a  silver 
fox,  the  skin  of  which  was  worth  fifty  or  sixty  dollars.  This  was 
too  valuable  a  chance  to  be  lightly  thrown  away,  and  drawing 
his  pistol  from  his  belt,  he  started  in  pursuit.  But  quick  as  he 
was,  the  fox,  darting  from  cover  to  cover,  eluded  him  for  many  a 


388 


WILD  BILL. 


weary  mile,  and  at  last  escaped  him  in  the  darkness.  Eetracing 
his  steps  when  he  saw  there  was  no  hope  of  success,  he  heard,  as 
he  approached  the  camp,  a  terrible  sound — the  war-cry  of  the 
Sioux.  Creeping  cautiously  nearer,  he  saw  the  whole  fcicene  by 
the  light  of  the  flames  that  consumed  the  cabin;  fifteen  or  twen- 
ty Indians,  reveling  in  the  possession  of  the  keg  of  whiskey 
which  formed  an  important  part  of  the  miners'  outfit,  while  the 
belts  of  two  were  decorated  each  with  a  fresh  scalp,  reeking 
with  blood  J  the  bodies  of  his  companions  were  probably  con- 
sumed in  the  cabin. 

Knowing  that  he  would  not  be  safe  anywhere  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, he  fled  with  all  the  speed  he  could  command,  not  stopping 
for  rest  until  the  next  morni^^or.  Nearly  worn  out  with  fatigue, 
he  then  lay  down  under  a  treo  »iid  immediately  fell  asleep.  The 
^ight  was  continued  when  he  awoke  and  had  satisfied  his  hungei 
a  sage-hen  which  he  shot;  and  he  thought  he  had  a  fair  chance 
of  reaching  Fort  Fetterman,  when,  on  the  evening  of  the  second 
day,  he  discovered  that  the  Indians  were  on  his  trail.  They  rap* 
idly  gained  on  him,  and  his  chances  began  to  look  doubtful,  aa 
he  had  only  one  revolver,  and  two  chambers  of  that  had  been 
emptied.  Four  shots,  then,  remained,  and  with  these  he  must 
defend  himself  against  a  force  so  far  superior  in  number.  As  they 
came  up  within  range,  he  fired  one  shot  after  another,  and  foui 
Indians  dropped  from  their  ponies;  then,  retreating  to  the  edge 
of  the  precipitous  bank,  with  his  pistol  still  raised  as  if  to  fire 
again,  he  leaped  down  to  the  creek  below.  A  dizzy  whirl  through 
the  air,  and  he  reached  the  creek  beneath,  falling  into  an  air- 
hole, and  thus  escaping  all  injury  beyond  a  ducking  in  the  icy 
water  of  the  creek.  Keeping  well  under  the  ledge  of  rocks  that 
shielded  him  from  view,  he  continued  his  journey  along  the 
course  of  the  stream,  while  above  him  the  Indians  searched  for  ft 
descent  to  the  bed  of  the  creek.  All  night  long  the  chase  con- 
tinued, if  such  it  could  be  called  when  the  savages  expected  to 
find  only  the  mangled  body  of  the  white  inan  on  the  ice;  and  in 
the  morning  Bill,  worn  out  by  his  long  flight,  reposed  himself 
behind  the  trunk  of  a  large  cedar.  He  awoke  to  find  the  day  far 
advanced,  but  cloudy  and  dark.  Soon  the  thunder  rolled  heavily 
in  the  distance,  the  earliest  prophecy  of  approaching  spring; 
and  the  sound  was  echoed  by  another,  the  roar  of  the  fiood  that 
eame  rushing  through  the  canons. 

The  danger  waa  imminent.    Clingjbag  to  the  rugged  bank,  he 


WILD  BILL. 


38U 


clambered  slowly  upward,  while  each  momenx  seemed  an  age, 
A  sound  in  a  higher  key  than  the  rumbling  of  the  thunder  and 
the  roar  of  the  waters,  and  for  a  moment  he  turned ;  there  were 
the  Indians,  struggling,  rider  and  horse,  in  the  stream ;  the  wa- 
iters swept  impetuously  onward,  tossing  the  dark  forms  on  its 
seething  mass  of  foam,  and  dashing  them  against  the  rocky  sides 
of  the  canon.  At  last  the  summit  of  the  precipice  was  reached, 
and  the  weary  man,  no  longer  flying  from  enemies,  continued  his 
journey  until  he  reached  Fort  Fetterman  in  safety,  on  the  fourth 
day  after  the  attack  on  the  camp. 

Not  contented  with  his  experience  there.  Bill  wished  to  organ- 
ize an  expedition  to  the  Black  Hills,  of  sufficient  numbers  to  be 
comparatively  safe  from  the  Indians;  but  was  obliged  to  wait 
until  the  following  spring  (1876).  Going  to  Cheyenne  in  Febru- 
ary of  that  year,  to  perfect  arrangements,  he  again  met  a  lady 
whom  he  had  admired  for  many  years,  and  who  became  his  wife 
early  in  March.  A  wedding-tour  to  Cincinnati  followed,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  twelfth  of  April  that  the  party  of  about  two 
hundred  started  from  Kansas  City. 

Having  discharged  his  duties  as  guide.  Bill  settled  down  in 
Deadwood  to  watch  for  an  opportunity  for  a  profitable  strike. 
Deadwood  needs  no  description,  admits  of  none — a  mining  town, 
peopled  by  adventurous  roughs,  built  up  of  drinking  saloons  and 
gambling  dens.  Frequent  prospecting  tours  along  the  gulches 
among  the  hills  alternated  with  rest  in  the  town,  the  monotony 
being  diversified  by  many  games  of  poker.  Much  money,  of 
course,  thus  changed  hands,  and  the  last  day  of  July  Bill  won 
$500  from  an  adventurer  named  Jack  McCall.  The  loser  admit- 
ted it  was  a  fair  game,  and  seemed  as  well  satisfied  as  any  man 
could  be  under  the  adverse  circumstances.  As  Bill  was  playing 
with  some  others  on  the  afternoon  of  the  2d  of  August,  McCall 
carelessly  entered  the  saloon.  ISTo  one  suspected  that  he  had  any 
particular  purpose  in  view,  until,  when  he  had  reached  a  position 
only  about  a  yard  behind  Wild  Bill,  he  suddenly  drew  a  pistol, 
and  uttered  the  words :  "  D  n  you,  take  that ! 

He  fired  at  the  head  of  his  victim.  The  ball  crashed  through  the 
skull,  passed  through  the  brain,  and  came  out  through  the  right 
cheek,  imbedding  itself  in  the  arm  of  another  player.  Wild 
Bill's  head  bent  slowly  forward,  the  cards  fell  from  his  relaxing 
ftngers,  and  he  fell  prone  on  the  floor. 

Words  cannot  describe  the  excitement  which  reigned  in  Dead- 


390 


WILD  BILL. 


woodo  Wild  threats  of  lynching  the  murderer  were  heard  on 
every  hand,  but  the  more  orderly-minded  prevailed  upon  thes<e 
Vot-headed  avengers  to  give  McCall  a  fair  trial,  and  the  jury  ac- 
quitted him.  But  the  court  was  improvised  for  the  occasion,  and 
when  the  bully  visited  Yankton  a  few  days  later,  boasting  of  his 
deed,  he  was  promptly  arrested,  brought  before  the  legally  es- 
tablished tribunal,  found  guilty,  sentenced,  ahd  hanged. 

The  murdered  man^s  body  was  taken  in  charge  by  his  comrade 
and  friend,  Colorado  Charley,  and  a  grave  dug  on  the  mountain 


THE  MURDER  OF  WILD  BILL. 


gide,  where  the  pine-irees  shaded  the  flower-studded  sod.  With 
his  rifle  by  his  side,  he  was  laid  to  rest.  Not  forever,  for  as  the 
town  grew,  the  beauty  of  the  woodland  grave  on  the  hill-side 
departed,  and  reverently  his  friends  removed  to  another  resting- 
place  all  that  was  mortal  of  one  of  the  bravest  scouts  that  Amer- 
^.ca  has  ever  produced. 

^^He  was  a  plainsman  in  every  sense  of  the  word,''  says  Gen. 
Custer,  who  knew  him  well  as  a  scout;  ^^yet  unlike  any  other  ot 
his  class.  .  .  .  "Whether  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  he  was  one  ot 
the  most  perfect  types  of  physical  manhood  I  ever  saw.  .  -  .  His 
manner  was  entirely  free  from  all  bluster  or  bravado.  He  never 
spoke  of  himself  unless  requested  to  do  so.  His  influence  among 
the  frontiersmen  was  unbounded,  his  word  was  law.    Wild  Bill 


WILD  BILL. 


391 


is  anything  but  a  quarrelsome  man,  yet  no  one  but  himself  can 
enumerate  the  many  conflicts  in  which  he  has  been  engaged/^ 

One  notable  peculiarity  was  his  sincere  regret  at  the  invariable 
termination  of  such  contests ;  and  it  was  a  notorious  fact  that 
Wild  Bill  was  always  chief  mourner  at  the  funerals  which  he 
made  necessary,  and  frequently  paid  all  expenses.  In  one  in- 
stance, at  least,  he  went  even  farther,  contributing  to  the  support 
of  Mrs.  McOandlas  whom  her  husband  left  destitute,  until  her 
death. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


BUFFALO  BILL. 

IS"  the  early  part  of  1845  there  was  born  in  Scott  County,  Iowa, 
a  boy  whose  name  was  destined  to  be  known,  within  thirty 
years,  from  California  to  Eussia, — ^William  Frederick  Cody,  bet- 
ter recognized  by  his  famous  and  well-earned  title  of  Buffalo  Bill. 
But  his  fertile  farm  in  Iowa  seemed  to  his  father,  Isaac,  less  desi- 
rable than  a  "  claim  ^'  in  the  far  western  gold  country,  and  in 
1849,  when  the  California  fever  raged  so  fiercely,  ho  made  an  un- 
'Buccessfal  effort  to  reach  the  distant  mines.  P'or  three  years 
dffcer  this  he  remained  with  his  young  family  Ii^  Iowa,  during 
tvhioli  time  little  Billy  was  sent  to  school  to  get  him  out  of  the 
wajy  while  his  leisure  time  was  spent  in  trapping  quails.  Thus 
oarly  began  his  love  for  hunting. 

But  Mr.  Cody  had  not  yet  given  up  the  idea  of  moving  to 
/Bom®  new  country,  although  California  had  so  rapidly  filled  up 
that  golden  opportunities  no  longer  presented  themselves  in  that 
«tate.  In  March,  1852,  then,  he  disposed  of  his  farm,  and,  with  his 
femily,  set  out  for  Kansas.  The  journey  gave  no  slight  pleasure 
^.o  the  seven-year-old  boy,  to  whom  the  corn-bread  and  negroes, 
then  so  plentiful  in  that  part  of  Missouri,  were  objects  of  equal 
interest.  When  the  family  stopped  near  Weston,  there  to  remain 
until  Kansas  was  open  to  emigrants,  and  the  father,  after  a  short 
absence  spent  in  establishing  a  trading-post  at  Salt  Creek  Valley, 
returned  to  take  his  son  over  to  Kansas,  the  boy^s  delight  knew 
no  bounds.  Even  the  statement  that  two  ponies,  his  own  proper- 
,ty,  there  awaited  him,  could  hardly  add  to  his  excitement.  The 
military  parade  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  the  fleets  of  prairie 
schooners  that  dotted  the  green  valleys,  even  the  burial  service 
that  the  encamped  Mormons  held  over  one  of  their  number, 
preceded  the  arrival  at  the  camp.  There  he  found  the  frontiers* 
men,  who,  clad  and  armed  in  the  manner  peculiar  to  the  border, 
were  equally  wonderful.  They  look  like  pirates/'  was  his  child- 
ish opinion.   Yonder  smUl  grou^p  of  dark-skinned  and  curiously 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


attired  persons  next  claimed  his  attention,  and  the  very  fact  that 
they  were  Indians  made  him  doubly  anxious  to  interview  them. 

But  his  ponies  were  a  disappointment,  being  so  wild  that  they 
^ould  not  suffer  him  to  touch  them.  One  was  caught,  and  he 
enjoyed  a  ride  upon  it  on  the  second  day,  but  his  father's  hand 
never  Left  the  bridle.  They  were  again  at  the  agency  in  the 
evening,  when  there  came  towards  them,  from  a  camp  farthar 
down  the  river,  a  magnificent  specimen  of  western  manhood; 
more  than  six  feet  tall,  and  well  built,  his  long,  sinewy  limbs  an4 
broad  chest  were  covered  with  a  beautifully  beaded  suit  ef  buck- 
skin; a  native  of  the  prairies,  his  step  was  as  light  and  elastic 
as  that  of  the  Swiss  mountaineer  or  the  Scotch  Highland  lassie ; 
his  brown  face  was  shaded  by  a  huge  sombrero.  Looking  at  the 
boy,  who  was  trying  to  win  the  love  of  one  of  the  ponies  by 
)7etting,  he  said: 

^'Little  one,  your  ponies  seem  wild  yet." 

"Yes,  and  one  of  them  has  never  been  ridden." 

"Well,  ril  ride  him  for  you." 

It  was  no  effort  to  "  witch  the  world  with  noble  horseman- 
ship," but  only  a  wish  to  please  a  child.  It  might  well  have  been 
the  first,  for  never  a  knight  or  king  rode  such  a  steed  over  such 
a  course.  Eeariiig,  plunging,  using  every  endeavor  to  unseat 
his  rider,  the  pony  at  last  concluded  that  it  was  a  hopeless  task, 
and  quietly  submitted  to  the  guidance  of  a  master. 

"  O,  that's  nothing,"  answered  the  Californian  to  Mr.  Cody's 
praises;  "I  was  raised  on  horseback.  I  ran  away  from  home 
when  I  was  a  boy,  went  to  sea,  and  finally  landed  in  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  where  I  fell  in  with  a  circus.  I  was  with  it  two 
years,  and  made  a  mark  as  a  bare-back  rider.  But  I  heard  of  the 
excitement  over  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California,  and  went 
there,  but  didn't  go  to  mining.  I  went  to  work  as  a  bocarro—" 
catching  and  breaking  wild  horses.  Last  summer  we  caught  this 
herd  that  we  have  brought  across  the  plains,  and  want  to  sell 
it  in  the  states.  I'm  going  over  to  Weston  to-morrow  to  see  if 
my  uncle  is  still  living  there,  and  when  we've  sold  the  horses 
I'll  go  and  see  the  rest  of  my  folks  in  Ohio." 

"  I  am  acquainted  in  Weston,  and  perhaps  can  tell  you  about 
your  uncle.    What  is  his  name  ?  " 

"Elijah  Cody." 

"  Elijah  Cody  ?   Why,  he  is  my  brother." 

Sure  enough,  the  stranger,  Horace  Billings,  was  Mr.  Cody's 


o94 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


nephew,  who  naa  iiever  been  heard  from  during  all  nis  long  ab- 
sence. Bot^-een  the  young  giant  and  his  little  cousin  there  soon 
sprang  up  a  ^strong  friendship,  the  boy  looking  up  to  the  man  as 
'Jie  greatest  of  living  beings,  while  the  man  looked  upon  the  boy 
something  as  a  huge  JSTcwfoundland  looks  at  a  diminutive  black- 
and-tan.  Billings  was  soon  afterward  employed  in  catching  gov- 
ernment horses,  a  large  herd  of  which  had  stampeded  from  Leav- 
enworth some  time  before,  and  now  roamed  over  the  prairies. 
During  the  time  that  he  was  thus  employed,  little  Billy  was  his 
constant  companion,  and  received  from  him  most  excellent  les- 
sons in  the  management  of  a  horse  and  the  throwing  of  a  lasso. 
Many  a  wiid  chase  there  was  across  the  prairies,  when  the  ani- 
mals, with  every  muscle  strained  to  the  utmost,  with  nostrils  di- 
lated and  ej^es  glaring  with  terror,  dashed  madly  onward,  fol- 
lowed closely  by  the  reckless  bocarros.  The  long  lariat  whirls 
around  and  above  the  head  of  each  man,  as  he  gallops  beside  the 
animal  he  has  chosen;  now  he  throws  it,  and  the  horse,  half- 
strangled,  and  unable  by  his  brute  instinct  to  account  for  the  sud- 
den compression  about  his  neck,  sinks  struggling  to  the  ground. 
Of  such  scenes  as  these  was  the  boy  a  delighted  spectator,  al- 
though, of  course,  he  did  not  possess  sufflciei:jt  strength  to  be  of 
any  very  material  assistance ;  but  there  was  scon  developed  an 
intense  longing  to  be  like  this  wonderful  cousin. 

Through  the  next  few  years  we  need  not  follow  him;  only 
pauaing  to  note  that  his  companions,  boys  from  the  neighboring 
friendly  Kickapoo  tribe,  taught  him  something  of  their  language, 
and  from  them  he  acquired  considerable  skill  in  the  use  of  the 
bow  and  arrow.  Mr.  Cody's  avowal  of  his  anti-slavery  opinions 
was  rewarded  by  a  murderous  assault,  from  the  effects  of  which 
he  had  hardly  recovered  when  his  house  was  surrounded  by  a 
pro-slavery  mob,  and  he  only  escaped  by  disguising  himself  in 
his  wife's  clothes;  the  ruse  was  not  detected  in  the  darkness. 
Nor  did  a  removal  render  him  much  safer.  Learning  of  a  plot  to 
kill  her  husband,  Mrs.  Cody  sent  her  eldest  son,  now  nine  years 
old,  to  warn  him  of  his  danger;  as  the  boy  rode  on,  he  heard, 
from  a  party  of  men  encamped  at  the  creek  crossing,  the  words; 
"  That's  the  son  of  the  old  abolitionist  we're  after.'^ 
In  a  moment  came  the  order  to  halt.  But  onward  dashed  the 
plucky  little  animal  at  his  master's  bidding,  and  those  who  pur- 
sued him  were  soon  distanced ;  the  boy  realized  how  much  de- 
pended upon  his  escape,  and  rode  without  caring  to  spare  even 


BUFfALO  BILL. 


his  beloved  pony,  /ov  a  long  time  Mr.  Cody's  life  was  not  safe 
m  Kansas,  especially  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  own  house,  and 
it  was  only  by  stealth  that  he  could  visit  his  family. 

In  the  meantime,  Billy  had  been  nearly  heart-broken  by  the 
theft  of  his  pony.  Meeting  one  day  with  Mr.  Eussell,  the  great 
freighter,  whom  he  knew  well,  he  poured  all  his  troubles  into 
sympathizing  ears. 

Billy,  my  boy,  cl«?er  up.  Come  to  Leavenworth,  and  FK  em- 
ploy you.  ril  give  yoa  twenty-five  dollars  a  month  to  herd  cattle,.'^ 

Consoled  for  the  loss  of  his  steed  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  future 
prospects,  Billy  hurried  home  to  inform  his  mother  of  this  mun- 
ificent offer;  but  less  dazzled  by  it  than  her  son,  she  refused  to 
let  him  go.  All  his  J> leading  was  in  vain,  and  he  was  reduced  to 
the  alternatives  of  stfa,ying  at  home,  or  running  away.  He  chose 
the  latter,  not  returning  for  two  months,  when  he  brought  a  hun- 
dred silver  half-dollars  to  his  mother,  who  had  long  before  this 
learned  of  his  whereabouts,  and  consented  to  let  him  remain  in 
Mr.  EusselFs  employ.  But  she  was  not  content  that  he  should 
long  continue  at  this  work,  and  persuaded  him  to  stay  at  home 
and  go  to  school.  For  some  time,  acceding  to  her  wish,  he  de- 
moted himself  to  his  books,  until  an  unlucky  fight  with  his  rival 
for  the  favor  of  a  small  maiden,  ended  in  the  infliction  of  a  slight 
cut  on  the  thigh  of  his  antagonist.  Believing  that  he  had  killed 
him,  Billy  lost  no  time  in  getting  away,  and  soon  reached  a  hav- 
en of  safety. 

This  was  a  freight  train  sent  out  by  his  former  employers,  the 
wagon-master  of  which,  John  Willis,  was  an  old  acquaintance, 
and  now  proved  himself  to  be  a  friend  in  need.  Mrs.  Cody  had 
heard  of  Billy's  fight,  and  was  in  considerable  anxiety  about  him 
when,  that  night,  after  the  men  connected  with  the  train  had  er- 
camped,  he  and  his  friend  rode  to  her  house.  After  m.uch  solici- 
tation, she  gave  her  consent  to  the  plan  which  they  had  formed, 
although  fearful  lest  her  boy  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  In- 
dians. The  event  proved  that  her  boy  was  quite  able  to  take 
care  of  himself.  In  accordance  with  the  proposition  that  Willis 
had  made  to  him,  then,  Billy  set  out  to  Port  Kearney  with  the 
train,  and  spent  the  summer  in  herding.  The  death  of  his  fath- 
er, in  the  spring  of  1857,  rendered  it  desirable  for  him  to  con- 
tinue in  this  work,  and  in  May  of  that  year  he  was  one  of  the 
hands  accompanying  a  herd  of  beef  cattle  to  the  army  of  Gen. 
Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  who  "Was  then  fighting  the  Mormons. 


39G 


iJUFPALO  BILL. 


Reaching  a  point  on  the  South  Platte  some  thirty-five  miles 
from  Old  Port  Kearney,  they  encamped  for  dinner.  As  a  matter 
of  habit,  three  men  were  posted  as  guards ;  the  cook  was  busily 
_^etting  dinner,  and  the  wagon-masters  and  others  taking  a  quiet 
loonday  nap.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  no  one  was  ever  entire- 
ly safe  from  attack,  they  thought  nothing  of  Indians,  having  no 
idea  that  there  were  any  near  them.  The  guards  themselves 
doubtless  were  cursing  the  unnecessary  precaution  which  kept 
them  from  enjoying  a  nap  beside  their  companions,  when  they 
heard  on  every  side  the  war-whoop  of  the  red  man,  and  saw  In- 
dians who  seemed  to  have  sprung  from  the  earth,  or  dropped 
from  the  sky.  As  the  men  jumped  to  their  feet  and  seized  their 
guns,  they  saw  the  cattle  rushing  off  in  every  direction;  the  first 
effort  of  a  war-party  being  to  stampede  all  the  animals  belong- 
ing to  the  camp  which  they  attack.  The  three  guards  had  been 
killed  at  the  first  fire  of  the  savages,  who  now  charged  down  up- 
on the  camp.  Eeceived  by  a  well-directed  volley  from  the  re- 
volvers and  yagers  of  the  teamsters,  they  drew  oif,  but  evidently 
only  to  re-form  for  another  attack. 

^^Make  a  break  for  the  slough  yonder,"  shouted  Prank  Mc- 
Carthy, in  charge  of  the  herd ;  and  then  we  can  use  the  bank  as 
a  breastwork/' 

Obeying  the  order,  and  carrying  with  them  th3  one  man  who 
had  been  wounded,  they  for  sometime  successfully  defended  them- 
selves. But  something  more  than  defense  was  necesoary ;  they 
must  reach  the  shelter  of  Port  Kearney  again,  ibr  the  Indians 
largely  outnumbered  them,  and  seemed  as  fresh  as  ever,  while 
the  teamsters  had  no  hope  of  reinforcements. 

Well,  boys,  we'll  try  to  make  our  way  back  to  Fort  ^  'earney 
\>y  wading  in  the  river  and  keeping  the  bank  for  a  breastwork.'^ 

Several  miles  were  traversed  in  the  manner  indicated  by  their 
leader;  the  Indians  above  them  on  the  high,  steep  bank  watch- 
ing an  opportunity  to  send  a  raking  fire  down  upon  them.  A 
raft  of  poles  was  constructed  for  the  wounded  man,  and  served 
also,  when  they  came  to  deep  water,  to  keep  their  weapons  dry 
as  they  swam.  Night  came  on,  and  still  the  relative  position  of 
the  two  parties  was  unchanged.  The  strength  of  the  boy  began 
to  fail,  and  he  lagged  behind  the  others,  now  a  few  feet,  now  as 
many  yards,  now  still  farther.  Patiently  he  toiled  on,  summon- 
ing all  his  powers  of  endurance.  It  was  ten  o'clock.  Looking 
up  at  the  bright  moonlit  sky,  he  saw,  darkly  outlined  against  it. 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


the  plumed  head  of  a  warrior  looking  over  thv.  ^row  of  the  bluff. 
Sharp  and  clear  rang  out  the  report  of  Billy's  gun,  and  with  one 
wild  cry  the  Indian  leaped  up,  and  then  fell  forward  into  the 
water — dead. 

^^"VVho  fired  that  shot?''  shouted  Frank  McCarthy,  as  he  and 
the  other  men  turned  back  upon  hearing  the  report. 

did/'  answered  the  boy, 
not  a  little  proud  of  his  first 
effort. 

^^Yes,  and  little  Billy  has 
killed  an  Indian  stone  dead,  too 
dead  to  skin,"  added  one  of  the 
men,  as  they  came  nearer,  and 
he  caught  sight  of  the  dusky 
form  lying  in  the  shallow  water. 

Above  them,  on  the  bank,  the 
Indians  set  up  a  terrible  howl- 
ing, and  sent  one  or  two  vol- 
leys of  shot  downward,  but 
they  were  fortunately  so  well 
protected  by  the  bank  that  no 
harm  was  done.  What  would 
the  savages  have  said  if  they 
had  known  that  the  warrior  had 
fallen  at  the  hands  of  a  boy 
twelve  years  old?  Theeventcre- 
ated  quite  a  sensation  at  the  time ;  Billy,  on  his  arrival  at 
Leavenworth,  was  interviewed  by  a  reporter,  and  he  was  soon 
widely  known  as  the  youngest  Indian  killer  on  the  plains. 

Billy  was  now  wedded  to  a  lile  on  the  plains,  and  in  the  sum- 
mer of  the  same  year  was  employed  as  extra  hand  on  a  train 
bound  for  Utah.  It  was  on  this  trip  that  he  first  met  Wild  Bill, 
whose  reputation  and  prowess  made  him  as  great  a  hero  to  the 
boy  as  Kit  Carson  had  been  to  himself.  He  had  not  yet  earned 
the  title  by  which  he  became  famous,  but  his  powerful  build,  his 
ability  to  "  out-run,  out-jump,  and  out-fight  any  man  in  the  train," 
the  true  manliness  that  never  allowed  his  exertions  of  power  to 
become  brutality,  laid  the  foundations  of  the  respect  and  love 
which  Buffalo  Bill  always  felt  for  him,  during  a  friendship  that 
lasted  for  nearly  twenty  years.  But  it  was  not  his  general  char- 
acter which  first  endeared  him  to  our  hero,  but  a  special  display 


BILLY  KILLS  HIS  FIRST  INDIAJ^. 


398 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


of  his  lovable  qualities  and  his  readiness  to  defend  the  helpless. 
A  surly,  overbearing  fellow,  one  of  the  teamsters,  had  for  some 
time  taken  particular  delight  in  bullying  and  tyrannizing  over 
Billy,  when  one  day,  while  they  were  at  dinner,  he  ordered  the 
boy  to  perform  some  small  service  for  him.  Billy  hesitated  a 
moment,  and  the  teamster  gave  him  a  slap  in  the  face,  that  sent 
him  from  the  ox-yoke  on  which  he  was  sitting,  sprawling  on  the 
ground.  Jumping  up  with  a  mad  wish  to  revenge  the  insult, 
jBilly  snatched  up  a  kettle  of  boiling  coffee  and  threw  it  at  him. 
Smarting  at  the  boy^s  retaliation  no  less  than  at  the  scalding 
received,  the  teamster  sprang  at  the  boy  with  all  the  ferocity  of 
a  wild  beast,  only  to  be  stopped  midway  in  his  course,  felled  by 
a  blow  from  Wild  Bill. 

"  What's  it  yer  business,  anyhow  he  demanded,  as  he  rose 
and  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  face  to  wipe  away  the  blood  ; 

What  did  yer  hev  to  put  in  yer  oar  for,  Td  like  ter  know  V 

"  It  is  my  business  to  protect  that  boy,  or  anybody  else,  from, 
abuse  or  kicks,'^  answered  Wild  Bill,  his  gray  eyes,  glittering 
like  steel,  fixed  steadily  upon  the  angry  teamster;  and  if  you 
ever  lay  a  hand  on  little  Billy  again,  TU  give  you  such  a  pound- 
ing as  you  won't  get  over  for  a  month  of  Sundays/' 

As  in  after  years,  the  statement  that whoever  wants  any  more 
of  a  fight  must  settle  it  with  me,"  was  enough,  and  Billy  was  not 
again  molested  either  by  that  teamster,  or  by  any  who  might, 
otherwise,  have  been  so  disposed. 

The  same  point  at  which,  on  the  previous  trip,  they  had  been 
attacked  by  the  Indians,  again  proved  to  be  the  scene  of  misfor- 
tune, for  the  Mormons,  learning  that  the  supplies  in  this  train 
were  destined  for  Gen.  Johnston's  army,  surprised  and  attacked 
the  teamsters,  possessed  themselves  of  such  goods  as  they  could 
carry  off,  and  burned  the  wagons  and  the  bulk  of  their  contents, 
Returning  to  Fort  Bridger,  they  spent  the  long  and  tedious  win- 
ter, suflPering  greatly  from  lack  of  food.  Eedueed  to  one-quarter 
rations,  they  were  at  last  obliged  to  kill  the  cattle  for  beef. 
Buffalo  Bill,  in  his  Autobiography,  asserts  that  the  animals  were 
so  poor  that  they  had  to  prop  them  up  to  shoot  them  down.  But 
better  times  came  with  the  opening  of  spring,  and  two  trains,, 
under  the  command  of  the  brigade-master,  set  out  by  way  of 
Port  Leavenworth  for  Utah. 

The  two  trains  were  about  lifteen  miles  apart  when  Simpson, 
the  brigade-master,  directed  his  assistant  wagon-master.  Woods, 


BITPPALO  BILL. 


399 


and  young  Cody,  to  ride  ahead  with  him  to  the  forward  train. 
They  had  gone  about  seven  miles,  and  were  on  a  high,  flat  sur- 
face of  considerable  extent,  when,  half  a  mile  away,  they  saw  a 
body  of  Indians  slowly  emerging  from  a  ravine  ahead  of  them. 
Down  came  the  savages  in  a  furious  charge  upon  the  little  party. 
But  a  warm  reception  awaited  them.  Jumping  from  his  own 
mule,  Simpson  gave  the  order  to  dismount  and  shoot  the  animals. 
Jerking  the  carcasses  around  the  men  to  form  a  triangular  breast- 
work, he  had  hardly  completed  his  arrangements  for  defense 
when  the  Indians  were  so  near  that  they  were  almost  within  range. 

"  Get  ready  for  them  with  your  guns,  and  when  they  come 
within  fifty  yards,  aim  low,  bla^e  away,  and  bring  down  youi 
man/' 

The  order  was  faithfully  obeyed,  and  three  Indians  fell  at  th^ 
first  fire.  Only  one  or  two  of  the  savages,  luckily,  carried  rifles 
most  of  them  being  armed  only  with  bow  and  arrow.  Arounc^ 
and  around  the  little  fortification  they  rode,  directing  a  flight  of 
arrows  every  now  and  then  against  the  men  crouching  there,  and 
firing  as  fast  as  it  was  possible  to  reload.  Withdrawing  at  las< 
to  a  considerable  distance,  they  appeared  to  be  holding  a  council. 
This  continued  for  about  two  hours,  while  the  white  men,  in  fev 
erish  haste,  dug  up  with  their  knives  the  earth  inside  the  barri 
cade,  throwing  it  around  and  over  the  mules  to  form  abetter  do 
fense.  An  efl'ort  on  the  part  of  the  Indians  to  burn  them  out  b'p 
setting  fire  to  the  prairie  failed,  on  account  of  the  shortness  ol 
the  grass ;  and,  finally  giving  up  the  idea  of  succeeding  by  an  aji 
tack,  the  redskins  began  a  siege. 

Evidently  the  Indians  knew  of  the  first  train,  but  not  of  th^^ 
second,  in  which  lay  the  only  hope  of  the  besieged  party.  The 
siege  lasted  all  night,  and  far  into  the  next  morning.  The  sun 
indicated  about  10  A.  M.,  when  they  heard  in  the  distance  the 
report  of  the  bull-whips,  sharp  and  clear  as  that  of  a  rifle.  In  a 
few  moments  they  saw  the  foremost  wagon  coming  slowly  over 
the  distant  ridge,  and  soon  the  whole  outfit  came  in  sight.  Once 
mom  fer^/-«  V    'A    %dia<2is  charged  upon  our  little  group, 

atixi,  rx^puistrci  US  gaii'aiiti^  viT^  xfx^x^^'e,  dashed  away  OT^^r  th^  i^y-ai- 
ries.    No  other  incident  marked  their  progress  over  the  plain*. 

Let  us  pass  lightly  over  the  next  few  years,  spent  partly  in  thgb 
same  work,  partly  in  mining,  partly  as  a  pony  express  rider. 
The  latter  part  of  1859  found  him  trapping  for  beaver  on  the  tri- 
butaries  of  the  Eepublican,  where  a  serious  accident  befell  him. 


400 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


Spying  a  herd  of  elk,  Billy  and  his  companion  started  in  pursuit 
of  them,  but  while  turning  a  sharp  bend  in  the  creek  the  former 
slipped  and  broke  his  leg.  One  of  their  yoke  of  oxen  had  fallen 
a  short  time  before,  and  it  being  impossible  for  them  to  cure  the 
poor  thing's  hurts,  they  had  shot  it.  Billy  now  begged  his  friend 
to  put  him  out  of  his  misery  in  the  same  way.  But  Harrington  set 
the  broken  bone  as  best  he  could,  and  making  the  wounded  boy  as 
comfortable  as  possible,  set  off  to  the  nearest  settlement,  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  miles  away,  to  get  a  yoke  of  cattle  with 
which  to  remove  Billy.  At  least  twenty  days  would  be  needed 
for  the  trip,  and  during  this  whole  time  the  helpless  boy  must 
be  left  alone.  Twelve  days  passed,  each  one  longer  than  the  pre- 
Beding  one  had  been,  and  the  boy  wearily  counted  the  time  that 
must  go  by  before  any  one  could  come.  In  the  midst  of  the  cal* 
gulatioDS  which  had  been  repeated  so  often,  he  fell  asleep.  j\ 
touch  on  his  shoulder  awakened  him,  and  he  opened  his  eyes  t(. 
lee  an  Indian  warrior  standing  beside  him,  his  face  hideously 
'  daubed  with  war-paint.  In  a  mixture  of  Sioux  and  broken  Eng 
Hsh,  this  grisly  visitor  asked  him  what  he  was  doing  there,  and 
kow  many  companions  he  had.  Hardly  knowing  if  he  were* 
Stwake  or  dreaming,  Billy  heard  the  voices  as  of  a  large  party 
Dutside,  and  saw  the  little  dug-out  filled  with  Indians,  but  had 
time  to  reply  before  the  old  chief,  Rain-in-the-Face,  entered. 

To  him  Billy  appealed,  and  not  in  vain.  His  young  men  wer^ 
on  the  war-path,  but  this  was  a  "pappoose,'^  and  they  consented 
to  spare  him.  Billy  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  lodge  of 
Eain-in-the-Face,  and  the  old  chief  pitied  his  condition;  but  tooJi 
all  the  arms  in  the  dug-out  to  accoutre  one  of  his  warriors,  who 
had  no  gun.  Helping  themselves  liberally  to  the  provisions 
which  they  found,  the  Indians  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day 
and  all  night  there.  The  sugar  and  coffee  were  all  consumed, 
these  being  luxuries  for  which  the  Indians  eagerly  seek.  Taking 
iwith  them  such  cooking  utensils  as  they  fancied,  they  departed 
next  morning,  leaving  Billy  too  glad  to  escape  with  his  life  to 
grumble  at  their  helping  themselves  to  his  food. 

The  next  day  it  began  to  snow,  and  for  three  days  the  storm 
continued.  Thick  and  fast  fell  the  flakes,  blocking  the  doorway 
and  covering  the  dug-out  until  it  looked  like  a  huge  grave.  The 
wood  was  under  the  snow,  and  sooner  than  endure  the  pain  which 
attended  the  getting  it,  he  lay  without  fire  for  some  time,  eating 
raw  frozen  meat  and  snow,    Hajf  ington,  he  felt  sure^  had  beep 


BUFFALO  bUTl. 


401 


lost  in  the  snow,  ana  he  had  nearly  given  up  all  hopt?^  leaving 
the  dug-out  alive.  The  hoarse  *^whoa,  haw!''  that  he  heard  on 
the  twentieth  day  was  the  sweetest  music  that  had  ever  pleased 
his  ears.  The  two  friends  greeted  each  other  with  all  the  enthu" 
siasm  of  two  school-girls,  each  having  supposed  the  other  had  per- 
ished. They  reached  the  settlements  in  safety,  but  it  was  many 
months  before  Billy  could  walk  without  crutches.  Harringtoi 
had  braved  many  difficulties  and  hardships  to  succor  his  friend, 
and  Mrs.  Cody  could  not  do  enough  for  him  when  he  fell  sick  at 
her  house  in  the  spring,  she  nursing  him  most  tenderly  until 
his  death. 

While  he  lay  in  the  dug-out,  Billy  had  vowed  that  if  he  escap- 
ed with  his  life  he  would  leave  the  plains  forever,  but  as  the 
summer  came  on,  and  he  had  completely  recovered  from  the  ef- 
fects of  his  accident,  he  began  to  long  for  the  old  life.  Offering 
himself  as  a  pony  express  rider,  he  was  greeted  with : 

"  My  boy,  you  are  too  young  for  that  work.  It  takes  all  of  g 
man's  strength." 

"  I  rode  two  months  last  year  on  Bill  Trotter's  division,  and 
filled  the  bill  then,  and  I  think  I  am  better  able  to  ride  now." 

"  What !  are  you  the  boy  that  was  riding  there,  and  was  called 
the  youngest  rider  on  the  road  ?  " 
I  am  the  same  boy." 

^'  I've  heard  of  you  before.  You  are  a  year  older  now,  and  3 
reckon  you  can  stand  it.  I'll  give  you  a  trial,  anyway,  and  xt 
you  weaken  you  can  come  back  to  Horseshoe  station  and  tem^l 
stock." 

He  was  assigned  to  duty  on  the  road  between  Eed  Buttes,  on 
the  North  Platte,  to  the  Three  Crossings  of  the  Sweetwater,  a 
distance  of  seventy-six  miles.  Eiding  into  the  latter  one  day  not 
long  after  his  appointment,  he  found  that  the  rider  who  was  ex- 
pected to  carry  on  the  letters  that  he  brought  had  been  killed  in  a 
drunken  row  the  night  before,  and  there  was  no  one  to  take  his 
place.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  Cody  changed  horses, 
and  undertook  the  extra  ride  of  eighty-five  miles.  Arriving  at 
the  end  of  the  route  in  good  time,  he  turned  and  rode  back  to 
the  starting-point,  accomplishing  a  distance  of  more  than  three 
hundred  miles  on  the  round  trip. 

The  Indians  were  becoming  very  troublesome  along  the  stage 
route,  continually  lying  in  wait  for  the  express  riders  and  the 
coaches  3  and  all,  especially  the  Ion©  riders,  had  to  take  many 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


desperate  chances.  The  drivers  and  passengers  of  all  stages  de- 
parting were  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  it  was  quite  an  interest- 
ing  sight  to  see  the  huge  affairs  load  up  and  start  off  from  a  sta. 
tion.  It  was  always  realized  what  perils  might  beset  them 
on  the  way.  About  the  middle  of  September  the  savages  gath- 
ered sufficient  courage  to  openly  attack  a  stage.  As  the  heavy 
vehicle  lumbered  on,  five  hundred  Sioux  appeared  from  the  long 
grass,  where  they  had  lain  concealed,  and,  yelling  like  so  many 
devils  let  loose,  rushed  upon  them.  Passengers  and  employes 
were  well  armed,  but  the  odds  were  too  great;  the  driver 
and  two  passengers  were  killed,  one  man  badly  wounded,  and 
the  stage  plundered.  Much  stock  was  driven  off  from  the  dif- 
ferent stations,  and  it  was  finally  decided  to  stop  the  pony  express 
for  at  least  six  weeks,  and  run  the  stages  only  occasionally  for 
the  same  length  of  time. 

ItVas  while  nearly  all  the  employes  of  the  road  were  thus  ly- 
ing idle  that  it  was  decided  to  send  out  a  party  of  volunteers 
against  the  Indians.  Of  this  company  Billy  was  one,  but  as  the 
incidents  and  results  have  already  been  related  in  the  sketch  of 
the  captain,  Wild  Bill,  it  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  the  story  here. 

Eeturning  to  headquarters,  Cody,  who  had  made  himself  quite 
a  favorite,  was  put  on  as  an  extra  rider  as  soon  as  the  pony  ex- 
press was  again  running  having  little  to  do  except  on  extraor- 
dinary  occasions.  Having  much  leisure,  he  devoted  considerable!, 
time  to  hunting,  a  sport  to  which  he  had  been  attached  ever  since, 
at  the  age  of  five  or  six  years,  he  had  trapped  quails  in  Iowa. 
Starting  out  for  a  bear-hunt  one  day,  he  had  gone  some  distance, 
and  killed  only  some  sage-hens,  which  he  was  about  to  cook  for 
his  supper,  when  he  heard  the  whinny  of  a  horse  near  by.  Know- 
ing of  no  white  men  in  the  neighborhood,  and  fearing  that  the 
animal  might  belong  to  a  roving  band  of  Indians,  he  determined 
to  make  a  reconnoissance.  Ee-saddling  his  horse  and  tying  him 
securely,  so  as  to  prevent  his  straying  with  his  fellows,  he  start- 
ed up  the  stream,  gun  in  harH.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek, 
high  up  on  the  mountain,  he  soon  saw  a  light  shining  through 
the  gathering  darkness.  Approaching  cautiously,  he  found  that 
it  came  from  a  dug-out  on  the  mountain-side,  from  which  he  heard 
voices.  At  last  he  could  distinguish  the  language  in  which  they 
spoke — it  was  English.  Knowing  that  the  occupants  of  the  hut 
were  white  men,  and  supposing  them  to  be  a  party  of  trappers, 
ke  walked  boldly  up  to  the  door  and  knocked  for  admission ;  in 


BUFFALO  BILL, 


answer  to  the  inquiry  from  within,  "Who's  there?"  he  replied: 
"A  friend  and  a  white  man/' 

"Come  in/'  and  a  big,  ugly-looking  fellow  opened  the  door. 
It  was  too  late  to  back  out,  though  Billy  would  have  readily  done 
so  when  he  discovered  into  whose  hands  he  had  fallen.  They 
were  eight  as  rough  and  villainous  looking  men  as  he  had  ever 
seen  in  the  whole  course  of  his  adventurous  life.  Two  of  them 
he  recognized  as  teamsters  discharged  some  time  before,  and 
now  sought  because  they  had  robbed  and  murdered  a  ranchman. 
Without  showing  any  signs  of  recognition,  however,  he  conceal- 
ed his  fear  and  distrust. 

"Where  are  you  going,  young  man,  and  who's  with  you?" 

"I  am  entirely  alone.  I  left  Horseshoe  Station  this  morning 
for  a  bear-hunt,  and  not  finding  any  bears,  I  had  determined  to 
camp  out  for  the  night  and  wait  till  morning;  and  just  zz  I  was 
going  into  camp,  a  hundred  yards  down  the  creek,  I  beard  one 
of  your  horses  whinnying,  and  then  I  came  up  to  your  camp." 

"Where's  your  horse?" 

"I  left  him  down  the  creek." 

"We'd  better  some  of  us  go  down  after  it." 

"  Captain,  I'll  leave  my  gun  here  and  go  down  to  get  him,  and 
then  come  back  and  stay  all  night  here,"  said  Billy,  thinking 
it  would  be  better  to  escape  without  his  gun  than  not  at  all. 

"No  you  don't,  my  fine  young  fellow,"  thought  the  despera- 
does, "  we  don't  know  but  whr.^.  you're  a  spy  on  us." 

"Jim  and  I  will  go  down  with  you  after  your  horse,"  one  of 
them  said,  "and  you  can  leave  your  gun  here  all  the  same,  fov 
you  won't  need  it." 

"All  right,"  answered  Billy,  who  could  raise  no  objection. 

"  Come  along,  then." 

As  they  reached  the  little  camp  one  of  them  unhitched  the 
horse  and  said,  "I'll  lead  him.    Come  on." 

"Very  well;  I've  got  a  couple  of  sage-hens  here.  Wait  a  min- 
ute till  I  get  them." 

On  they  went,  the  man  who  led  the  horse  in  the  van,  Billy  in 
the  middle,  the  other  bringing  up  the  rear. 

Although  he  had  left  his  gun  at  the  dug-out,  he  fortunately 
had  both  of  h^*«=i  revolvers,  and  the  first  plan  of  escape  having 
failed,  he  quicRiy  hit  upon  another. 

"I've  dropped  one  of  the  sage-hens,"  he  said  presently,  with 
vexation,  to  the  man  following  him;  "do you  see  it  anywhere?" 


Ihe  ansuspectin^  ^lan  stooped  to  look  upon  the  ground,  while 
Billy,  quickly  drawing  one  of  his  revolvers,  struck  him  a  blow 
on  the  head  that  knocked  him  senseless.  Hearing  the  blow,  the 
man  who  was  leading  the  horse  turned,  his  hand  on  his  revolver, 
ready  in  true  frontier  fashion  for  the  emergency,  whatever  it 
might  be.  Peering  through  the  darkness,  he  had  not  discovered 
what  was  wrong,  when  Billy  fired,  shooting  him  dead  in  his 
tracks.  ISTo  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  jumping  on  his  horse  our 
hero  rode  down  the  creek  at  full  speed. 

The  shot  was  heard  at  the  dug-out,  and  not  very  sure  of  their 


ESCAPING  FROM  THE  HORSE  TmEVES. 


guest's  intentions,  the  outlaws  came  rushing  down  jo  the  stream. 
They  found  the  body  of  their  comrade  that  had  been  killed,  and 
Jearned  from  the  other,  who  had  by  this  time  recovered  con- 
sciousness, what  had  happened.  On  they  came,  then,  in  hot  pur^ 
suit,  and  although  unmounted,  gained  rapidly  upon  Cody,  as 
the  ground  was  so  rough  that  his  horse  could  make  but  little 
headway.  At  last  they  came  so  close  that  he  saw  he  must  re- 
sort to  strategy,  and  throwing  himself  from  his  horse,  he  gave 
the  animal  a  hard  slap  with  the  butt  of  one  of  his  revolvers,  and 
scrambled  up  the  mountain  sid®.  Xhe  horse  started  down  thr 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


407 


valley,  and  the  pursuers,  led  on  by  the  sound  of  his  hoofs  clatter* 
ing  on  the  hard  ground,  passed  at  fall  speed  by  the  pine-tree  be- 
hind which  Cody  was  hidden.  Soon  he  could  hear  them  firing, 
supposing  that  he  was  still  on  the  horse,  and  cheered  by  this  evi- 
dence that  he  had  given  them  the  slip,  he  toiled  on  toward  Horse- 
shoe Station,  twenty-five  miles  away.  A  party  of  twenty  well- 
armed  men  started  the  next  morning  to  clean  out  the  ranch  of 
horse-thieves,  for  such  were  his  hosts  of  the  evening  before,  but 
the  birds  had  flown.  A  thorough  search  of  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood gave  no  other  result;  but  for  some  time  afterwards  they 
were  not  troubled  by  horse-thieves. 

When  the  war  broke  out  in  1861,  young  Cody  became  a  mem- 
ber of  Chandler's  company,  a  body  of  men  enlisted  for  the  pur- 
pose of  revenging  upon  the  Missourians  the  injuries  inflicted 
during  the  Kansas  troubles.  Missouri  had  not  seceded,  nor  did 
all  of  her  people  sympathize  with  the  South,  but  it  was  a  slave 
state,  and,  they  thought,  fair  game.  The  services  to  the  Union 
consisted  in  collecting  horses  from  the  well-stocked  farms  in 
Jackson,  Lafayette,  and  the  neighboring  counties;  the  animals 
not  being  turned  over,  however,  to  the  authorities.  The  Missouri- 
ans naturally  resented  this  behavior — there  is  nothing  they  hate 
as  they  do  a  horse-thief, — and  in  several  running  fights  chased 
the  jayhawkers  back  to  Kansas.  The  United  States  ofiicials  set 
detectives  on  the  track  of  Chandler  and  his  men,  and  several 
were  arrested ;  but  not  before  Mrs.  Cody  had  set  the  matter  in 
its  true  light  before  her  son,  and  induced  him  to  abandon  an  en- 
terprise that  was  neither  right  nor  honorable. 

But  Billy  was  destined  for  more  legitimate  work  as  a  soldier. 
Passing  over  the  remainder  of  1861  and  the  beginning  of  the  next 
year,  during  which  time  he  was  employed  in  buying  horses  for 
the  government,  we  find  him,  in  the  spring  of  1862,  accompany- 
ing, as  scout  and  guide,  the  volunteer  regiment  which  CoL  Clark 
led  against  the  Indians.  It  will  be  remembered  that  this  was  the 
vear  that  the  Sioux,  enraged  by  the  violation  of  the  treaty  made 
seven  years  before,  committed  so  many  robberies  and  massacred 
so  many  settlers.  The  Ninth  Kansas  perfo-rmed  scouting  service 
along  the  Arkansas,  among  the  Kiowas  and  Comanehes,  who 
threatened  coalition  with  the  more  northern  tribe;  but  though 
there  were  several  skirmishes  with  the  savages,  there  were  none 
<5i  especial  interest  or  importance.  Leaving  this  service  late  iB 
the  fall,  he  joined  the  Eed-Legged  Scouts,  operating  in  the  valley 


BUFFALO  BILU 


of  the  Arkansas  and  in  southwestern  Missouri,  Mu'^h  of  their 
time  was  employed  in  hunting  bushwhackers,  among  whom  the 
notorious  Younger  brothers  were  prominent,  and  many  were  the 
lively  skirmishes  between  them.  Employed  also  in  carrying  de- 
spatches, the  short  periods  of  time  spent  at  the  various  military 
posts  were  passed  in  all  the  festivity  that  each  place  allowed. 

But  darker  days  were  coming.  His  mother  died  in  Novem- 
ber, 1863,  and  for  a  long  time  Billy  mourned  her  with  all  the 
ardor  of  his  nature.  Going  to  Leavenworth,  l\e  tried  to  drown 
care  in  drink,  and  for  two  months  gave  fair  pi'omise  of  becom- 
ing as  disreputable  as  any  of  his  new  associates.  Awaking  one 
morning,  early  in  the  new  year,  he  found  himsolf  a  soldier  in  the 
Seventh  Kansas.  "When  or  how  he  ha^^  ep listed,  he  could  not  tell, 
but  knew  that  he  must  have  been  fiiy  gone  a  spree,  and  con- 
cluded to  make  the  best  of  it.  In  the  spring,  the  regiment  was 
ordered  to  Tennessee,  where  Cody  soon  became  &  non-commis- 
sioned officer,  and  was  put  on  detached  service  as  a  scout.  The 
Seventh  was  ordered  back  to  Missouri  and  performed  good  work 
in  repelling  Price's  last  raid.  Wild  Bill  and  Billy  Cody  were 
frequently  together  during  this  campaign,  after  the  escape  of  the 
former  from  the  Confederate  lines. 

Service  in  St.  Louis  in  the  winter  of  1864-5  resulted  in  an  ac- 
quaintance with  a  young  lady  of  this  city  whom  he  married  in 
the  spring  of  the  following  year.  The  interval  between  the  close 
of  the  war  and  his  marriage  was  spent  in  stage-driving,  but  hav- 
ing promised  his  wife  that  he  would  leave  the  plains,  he  rented  a 
hotel  in  Salt  Creek  Valley,  and  for  a  few  months  settled  down 
'to  the  business.  Many  qualities  corxibined  to  make  him  a  good 
and  popular  landlord,  but  six  months  of  it  proved  enough  for 
him.  Longing  for  the  old  wild  life  again,  and  believing  that  ht? 
could  make  more  money  on  the  frontier  than  where  he  was,  he 
started  west.  Meeting  at  Junction  City  with  his  old  friend  Wild 
Bill,  who  was  scouting  for  the  government,  and  learning  from 
him  that  more  scouts  were  needed,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  obtain- 
ing employment.  It  was  while  he  was  scouting  around  Fort 
Hays  that  he  met  with  Gen.  Custer,  who  had  just  come  out  with 
Gen.  Hancock's  Indian  expedition.  Custer's  favor  was  soon 
gained,  and  when  Cody  had  acted  as  guide  for  him  in  one  in- 
stance, he  said : 

^' If  you  were  not  engaged  as  post  scout  at  Port  Hays,  T  would 
like  to  have  you  with  me  this  summer.    But  if  you  ever  happen 


BUFFALO  BILL- 


409 


to  be  out  of  employment,  come  to  me  and  I'll  find  you  something 
to  do/' 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  an  expedition  was  sent  in  pursuit 
of  some  Indians  who  had  made  a  raid  on  the  K.  P.  E.  E.  Five 
or  six  men  had  been  killed,  here  and  there  a  workman  who  was 
at  some  distance  from  his  fellows,  and  about  a  hundred  horses 
and  mules  had  been  run  oif.  A  company  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry — 
a  negro  regiment — was  sent  against  them,  Cody  being  scout  and 
guide.  A  mountain  howitzer  was  sent  with  the  force,  and  the 
darkeys,  confiding  in  this  and  in  their  own  courage,  boasted 
loudly : 

Soon 's  we  kin  see  dem  Injuns,  we'll  blow  dem  clar  offer  de 
farm/'  • 

On  the  second  day  out,  they  suddenly  discovered  a  large  body 
of  Indians  about  a  mile  away,  and  charged  down  upon  them. 
Hastily  placing  his  howitzer  on  a  small  knoll,  the  commander 
detailed  twenty  men  to  guard  it,  and  with  his  remaining  force, 
crossed  the  little  stream  to  meet  the  Indians.  Hardly  had  they 
reached  the  other  bank,  when  they  heard  a  terrific  yelling  in 
their  rear,  and  looking  back  to  the  slight  eminence  where  the 
gun  hal  been  left,  saw  the  guard  flying  towards  them  on  the 
vv^ings  cf  fear,  pursued  by  a  hundred  red-skins.  The  captured 
cannon  vas  in  the  midst  of  another  large  party,  who  danced 
dround  it  as  if  they  wished  to  invoke  the  great  divinity  of  gun- 
powder. Turning  his  command  back,  the  leader  soon  regained 
possession  of  the  gun,  which  the  savages  did  not  know^  how  to 
use,  and  the  troops,  dismounting,  and  taking  position  there, 
finally,  after  two  hours'  hard  fighting,  gave  up  the  idea  of 
'^blowing  de  Injuns  offer  de  farm." 

Heah  dey  come,"  the  darkeys  would  yell,  as  the  redskins 
charged  down  upon  them. 

Dere  muss  be  ten  tousand  of  dem." 
"  Do  whole  country's  alive  wid  dem." 

Massa  Bill,  does  you  t'ink  we's  eber  gwine  to  git  out  ob 
heah?" 

The  commander  was  wounded,  the  gun  was  useless. 

VDo  you  think  there's  any  show  for  us  to  get  back  to  the 
fort,  Cody?"  asked  the  officer,  when  he  saw  that  the  Indians 
seemed  to  be  constantly  receiving  reinforcements, 

"  Yes,  I  think  there's  a  very  good  show  for  it,"  was  the  cheer- 
ful answer;  and  through  the  gathering  darkness  they  made  their 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


411 


escape  and  arrived  in  safety  at  Fort  Hays,  although  several  men 
had  been  killed. 

A  business  venture  soon  promised  to  make  our  hero  a  million- 
aire. In  company  with  a  railroad  contractor  he  formed  a  project 
for  building  a  town  on  the  line  of  the  new  road.  The  site  was 
duly  surveyed  and  staked  o&  into  lots,  one  of  which  was  present- 
ed to  any  one  who  would  build  on  it,  the  corner  lots  and  other 
desirable  situations  being  reserved  for  sale  at  fifty  dollars  each. 

Eome  was  not  built  in  a  day,'^  but  this  modern  place  of  the  an- 
cient name  grew  in  a  month's  time  to  a  t  wn  of  two  hundred 
frame  and  log  houses.  One  day  a  strange  gentleman  dropped 
into  the  store  that  Cody  and  his  partner  had  established,  and  af- 
ter some  conversation  on  general  subjects,  said  to  them : 

Gentlemen,  you've  got  a  very  flourishing  little  town  here. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  a  partner  in  your  enterprise  ? '' 

'''Noy  thank  you.  We've  got  too  good  a  thing  here  to  whack 
up  with  anybody.'^ 

^^Well,  I'm  the  agent  of  the  Kansas  Pacific  Eailroad,  and  my 
business  is  to  locate  towns  for  the  company  along  the  line.'^ 

^^I  reckon  we've  got  the  only  good  town  site  in  the  neighbor- 
liood,  and  as  a  town  is  already  started,  we  have  saved  the  com- 
pany considerable  expense." 

You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  the  company  expects  to  make 
money  by  selling  lands  and  town  lots ;  and  as  you  are  not  dispos- 
ed to  give  us  a  show,  or  share  with  us,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  start 
anotheo*  town  near  you.  Competition  is  the  life  of  trade,  you 
Know.'^ 

Start  your  town,  if  you  want  to.  We've  got  the  bulge  on  you, 
and  can  hold  it,"  was  the  confident  answer. 

The  very  next  day  Hays  City  was  begun,  one  mile  east  of 
Eome.  Here  the  railroad  company  would  locate  their  round 
houses  and  machine  shops,  Hays  City  was  to  be  the  business 
center,  and  to  Hays  City  went  all  Eome — literally,  for  the  inhab- 
itants  took  their  houses.  Three  days  after  the  interview  related, 
our  speculators  stood  in  front  of  their  own  store  and  watched 
the  removal  of  the  last  remaining  building  in  Eome  to  the  rival 
oown.  The  agent  proved  to  be  a  good  fellow,"  however,  and  the 
late  proprisetrrs  of  Eome  spent  many  days  in  bufi'alo-hunting  on 
the  surrour  d.ng  prairie.  Knowing  their  dow2i-lieartedness  over 
the  failure  o  '  their  speculation,  he  presented  each  of  them  with 
two  first-clasF  "  usiness  lots  in  Hays  City. 


412 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


Having  finally  concluded  that  it  was  useless  to  think  of  reviv- 
ing Eome,  the  two  devoted  all  their  time  to  fulfilling  their  rail- 
road contract. 

Being  pushed  for  horses,  Cody  put  his  favorite  saddle-horse, 
Brigham,  to  work;  but  he  had  about  given  up  the  idea  of  using 
him  for  this  purpose  when  one  of  the  men  called  out  that  there 
were  s^^me  buffaloes  coming  over  the  hill. 

^^ril  go  after  the  herd,''  our  hero  answered;  "hitch  your 
iiorr  or  to  a  wagon  and  come  after  me,  and  we'll  bring  in  some 
fresL  neat  x^r  supper.'' 

His  sad  lie  had  been  left  at  the  camp,  a  mile  away ;  so  taking 
the  harness  from  Brigham,  and  mounting  him  bareback,  he  start- 
ed after  the  game.  While  he  was  on  the  way,  he  saw  five  oflScers 
ride  from  the  fort,  evidently  bent  on  the  same  errand.  As  they 
came  nearer,  he  perceived  that  they  were  strangers,  having  but 
lately  arrived  in  that  part  of  the  country. 

"Hello,  my  friend,"  called  out  one,  whose  uniform  showed  he 
Tanked  as  captain,  "  I  see  you  are  after  the  same  game  that  we 
are." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  saw  those  buffaloes  coming  over  the  hill,  and  as 
l7e  were  about  out  of  fresh  meat  I  thought  I  would  go  and  get 
?5ome/' 

Brigham  had  on  a  blind  bridle,  and  looked  like  a  common 
tvork-horse.  Accomplished  buffalo-hunter  as  he  was,  he  was  not, 
at  the  best,  as  stylish  or  handsome  an  animal  as  one  would  ex- 
pect to  see. 

"Do  you  expect  to  catch  those  buffaloes  on  such  a  horse  as 
that?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  I  hope  so,  by  pushing  on  the  reins  hard  enough,"  replied 
Cody,  meekly. 

"You'll  never  catch  them  in  the  world,  my  man,"  the  captain 
assured  him;  "  it  .-equires  a  fast  horse  to  overtake  the  animals  on 
these  prairies.' 

"  Does  it?/'  asked  Cody,  as  if  very  much  surprised  at  the  in- 
formation. 

"Yes;  but  come  along  with  us.  We  are  going  to  kill  them 
more  for  pleasure  than  for  anything  else,  r nd  don't  want  any- 
thing but  the  tongues  and  a  piece  of  tenderloin;  so  you  can  have 
all  that  is  left." 

"  I  am  m^Ach  obliged  to  you,  captain,  and  will  follow  you." 

^ls  the  buffaloes  came  within  about  a  mile  of  them,  the  officers 


dashed  aneaa.  Cody  noticed  that  the  herd  was  making  towards 
the  craeK  far  water,  and  knowing  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
turn  t^em  irom  xueir  direct  course,  he  started  towards  the  creek 
to  heaa  inem  off.  On  came  the  buffaloes,  rushing  past  him  less 
than  a  hundred  yards  away,  with  the  officers  at  thrice  that  dis* 
tance  nenma  tnem.  Pulling  the  blind-bridle  off  Brigham,  who 
started  at  the  top  of  his  speed  the  moment  he  knew  his  master 
was  ready,  Cody  rode  in  ahead  of  the  others,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
Iments  was  alongside  the  rear  buffalo.  Eaising  his  rifle,  he  fired 
and  kixiea  the  animal  at  the  first  shot,  and  Brigham,  knowing 


BUFFALO  Bn.L  (Wo  F.  CODY). 


perfectJT  well  what  he  was  expected  to  do,  carried  him  to  the 
side  of  a  second.  It  was  but  a  few  moments'  work  to  despatch 
the  ^hels  herd  of  eleven,  twelve  shots  being  fired,  and  jumping 
from  his  horse,  he  turned  to  the  party  of  officers  as  they  rode  up, 
p-ndsaid:  * 

"Now  gentlemen,  allow  me  to  present  to  you  all  the  tongues 
and  tenderloins  you  may  wish  from  these  buffaloes.'^ 

"Well.  I  never  saw  the  like  before,^'  gasped  the  astonished 
ORptain;  "who  under  the  sun  are  you.  anyhow?'' 

"My  name  is  Cody.  ' 

Captaia  Graham,  the  senior  officer  cf  the  party,  afterwi:.  ^  «»- 


BUPFALO  BILL. 


f  aged  Cody  as  scBut  and  guide,  and  often  hunted  in  company 
Witk  him. 

That  very  night  the  Indians  made  a  raid  on  the  horses  belong- 
ing t©  the  contractors,  and  ran  off  five  or  six  of  their  best  work- 
teams.  At  daylight  the  next  morning  Cody  mounted  Brigham 
^nd  rode  over  to  Fort  Hays  to  procure  assistance  for  the  pursuit, 
^nd  Captain  Graham  was  ordered  out  with  his  company.  This 
^as  a  part  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry,  and  though  they  had  never 
"Vieen  in  an  actual  fight  with  the  Indians,  the  soldiers  were  quite 
as  certain  of  their  ability  to  catch  the  band  they  were  after  as 
had  been  their  brethren  who  were  so  badly  defeated  on  a  pre- 
vious expedition. 

^'  We^s  agwine  to  sweep  de  red  debils  offer  de  face  ob  de  earf, 
sah,^^  they  boasted,  as  they  marched  onward,  impatient  for  a 
fight  which  was  to  end  in  victory.  Capt.  Graham  was  a  brave 
man,  anxious  to  make  a  record  for  himself,  and  Cody  could  not 
follow  the  trail  quickly  enough  to  satisfy  his  anxiety  to  overtake- 
the  redskins.  Controlling  his  impatience  at  the  necessary  delaj 
as  well  as  he  could,  he  rode  onward,  and  was  soon  rewarded  by 
finding  the  trail  so  much  fresher  that  it  could  be  pursued  with  lesi! 
difficulty.  The  Indians  had  evidently  thought  that  they  wouldf 
not  be  pursued  beyond  a  certain  point,  and  had  made  no  effort^ 
after  passing  that,  to  conceal  their  route.  The  camp  was  discov-^ 
ered  from  the  brow  of  a  hill  a  mile  or  so  away  from  it,  a^id  the 
greatest  caution  no  w  became  necessary.  The  plan  was  that  they 
should  advance  silently  through  the  timber  in  the  night,  approach 
the  Indian  camp  as  closely  as  they  could  without  being  discov 
ered,  and  then  make  a  sudden  dash  upon  the  enemy.  Everything 
went  well  until  they  neared  the  point  where  they  must  leave  the 
woods;  when  one  of  the  ^^colored  gentlemen'^  became  so  excited 
that  he  fired  off  his  gun. 

^'  Charge  V'  came  the  order  before  the  report  had  fairly  died 
away  on  the  still  night  air. 

Through  the  crackling  timber  they  rushed  as  fast  as  their 
horses  could  carry  them,  but  the  nature  of  the  ground  was  but  ill 
adapted  to  a  cavalry  charge,  and  the  Indians  were  far  away  on 
che  prairies  when  the  soldiers  reached  the  camp.  The  trail  was 
followed  a  short  distance  the  next  day,  but  there  was  no  chance 
of  catching  the  Indians,  and  they  returned  to  Fort  Hays.  The 
disobedience  of  the  darkey  who  had  fired  the  gun  was  punishes 
by  compelling  him  to  walk  back  to  the  fort. 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


-115 


The  terminns  of  the  Kansas  Pacific  was  now  in  the  heart  of  the 
buffalo  country,  but  the  Indians  were  so  troublesome  that  it  was 
difficult  to  obtain  meat  for  the  twelve  hundred  workmen  em- 
ployed. It  was  necessary  to  employ  a  special  hunter,  whose 
knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  Indians  would  render  him  as 
safe  in  this  work  as  it  was  possible  for  a  solitary  white  man  to  be. 
For  this  dangerous  task  Cody  was  employed,  and  during  the  time 
that  he  engaged  in  it,  a  period  of  something  less  than  a  year  and 
a  half,  he  killed  more  than  four  thousand  buffaloes.  His  success 
as  a  hunter  of  the  huge  animals  had  already  made  him  famous, 
but  he  had  never  before  devoted  himself  so  steadily  to  it;  so  that 
it  was. reserved  for  the  army  of  railroad  hands  to  give  him  tha* 
title  which  has  clung  to  him  ever  since,  and  by  which  he  is  more 
widely  known  than  by  his  own  name — Buffalo  Bill. 

During  this  time  he  was  not  unmolested  by  the  Indians.  One 
day  in  the  spring  of  1868,  he  had  galloped  about  twenty  miles, 
and  had  reached  the  top  of  a  small  hill  overlooking  the  valley 
of  the  Smoky  Hill  Eiver,  when  he  suddenly  saw  a  band  of  aboul 
thirtj  Indians  less  than  half  a  mile  away.  Knowing  by  the  way 
they  limped  on  their  horses  that  they  had  seen  him  as  soon  as 
he  Cr.me  in  sight,  he  wheeled  around  and  started  back  to  the 
railr<>ad.  Brigham  knew,  as  well  as  his  master,  that  it  was  a 
race  for  life,  and  made  most  excellent  time.  A  few  jumps  took 
them  across  a  ravine,  but  looking  back  when  a  slight  ridge  be* 
yond  had  been  gained.  Bill  saw  that  his  pursuers  seemed  to  be 
gaining  on  him.  Three  miles  farther,  and  there  were  eight  oi 
nine  Indians  not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  away*  Brigham'^ 
long  gallop  had  evidently  told  upon  his  speed,  but  he  now  exert- 
ed himself  more  than  ever.  But  the  Indians  were  well-mounted, 
and  one  of  them  came  dangerously  near,  occasionally  sending  a 
rifle-ball  whistling  along.  A  shot  that  would  disable  Brigham 
would  be  fatal  to  his  rider,  and  realizing  what  danger  to  himself 
lay  in  the  Indian's  slightest  success.  Bill  suddenly  stopped,  turn- 
ed in  hh  saddle  and  fired.  Down  went  both  the  Indian  and  his 
horse,  and  not  waiting  to  see  if  the  warrior  was  dead,  he  rode  on 
at  the  utmost  of  poor  tired  Brigham's  speed.  The  chase  was 
continued  until  they  came  within  three  miles  of  the  railroad 
track,  where  two  companies  of  soldiers  had  been  stationed  to  pro^ 
tect  the  workmen.  One  of  the  outposts  saw  the  Indians  pursu- 
ing Bill  across  the  prairie,  and  giving  the  alarm,  cavalryir  en 
aoon  came  galloping  to  the  rescr.e. 


410 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


The  Indians  had  no  mind  to  attend  such  a  reception,  and  sooB 
turned,  and  the  running  was  now  in  the  other  direction.  Brig* 
ham  was  soon  surrounded  by  admiring  infantrymen  and  track- 
men, discussing  his  exploits;  and  the  way  he  was  rubbed  down 
and  walked  around  would  remind  one  of  the  winner  of  the  Derby. 

Some  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry  now  came  up,  and  forty  of  them^ 
with  Bill  on  a  fresh  horse  offered  him  by  Capt.  Nolan,  put  out 
after  the  retreating  redskins.  The  Indians^  horses  were  badly 
blown  by  the  long  gallop  after  Brigham's  stride,  and  the  troop- 
ers' fresh  animals  steadily  gained  on  them.    Soon  they  were 


"keep  off!" — CENTER  SHOT. 


overtaken  and  one  by  one  eight  Indians  fell  before  the  rifles  of 
the  pursuers.  This  time  the  colored  cavalry  certainly  did  good 
service,  and  Buffalo  Bill  had  reason  to  be  grateful. 

When  he  reached  the  place  where  his  ball  had  struck  the  horse 
of  the  foremost  pursuing  Indian,  he  found  that  the  bullet  had  hit 
the  animal  exactly  m  the  center  of  the  forehead,  causing  his  in- 
gtant  death.  He  was  a  beautiful  animal — too  good  for  a  maraud* 
ing  redskin  to  ride  on  after  white  scalps. 

If  there  was  anything  Buffalo  Bill  had  a  weakness  for,  it  was 
fe  the  direction  of  fine  horaftflefife^,  T:ik^  all  ^slainsmf®,  he  lo¥e4 


oOFFALO  BILL 


the  animal  to  whose  iSeetness  he  so  often  had  te  trust  Ms  life. 
When  he  returned  to  the  camp,  he  spent  some  time  in  petting  the 
noble  Brigham,  who  had  borne  him  so  finely  that  day,  and  the 
bond  of  affection  between  them  was  still  further  strengthened 
Buffalo  Bill  declared  that  Brigham  was  the  best  horse  he  evei 
saw  or  owned  for  buffalo  chasiii,^,  ard  he  certainly  was  good 
enough  to  get  away  from  o  c  get  afte?  Indians,  as  many  an  occa/ 
SI  on  had  shown. 

I  On  another  occasion  Bill  had  gone  hunting,  and  having  killed 
fifteen  buffaloes,  he  and  Scotty,  the  butcher  who  accompanied 
him  to  cut  up  the  ~neat  and  load  it  into  a  light  wagon,  had  come 
within  about  eight  miles  of  their  destination,  when  they  suddenly 
saw  a  party  of  about  thirty  Indians  riding  out  of  the  head  of  a 
ravine.  Immediate  action  was  necessary.  The  hunter  could, 
of  course,  have  escaped  by  fast  riding,  but  he  could  not  leave  his 
companion,  for  whom  there  would  be  no  chance  of  safety.  Jump- 
ing to  the  ground,  they  unhitched  the  pair  of  mules  used  in  the 
wagon,  and  tied  them  and  the  horse  to  the  vehicle.  Piling  the 
buffalo  hams  around  the  wheels  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  a  breast 
work,  and  securing  their  extra  box  of  ammunition  and  three  oi 
four  more  revolvers  which  they  always  carried,  they  crept  under 
th  ^  wagon.  On  came  the  Indians,  urging  their  swift  and  hardy 
ponies  to  their  greatest  speed.  When  they  were  within  a  hun- 
dred yards,  the  two  white  men  opened  a  sudden  and  galling  fire 
upon  them.  Changing  their  course,  which  had  been  directly 
down  upon  the  wagon,  the  Indians  rode  around  and  around  their 
proposed  victims,  firing  as  they  rode.  Their  shots  killed  the  three 
animals,  but  thetv,^o  men  were  unhurt.  Three  of  their  number  hav' 
ing  been  killed,  and  others  wounded,  they  withdrew  for  a  time. 
Knowing  that  he  would  be  attacked  by  the  Indians  some  time, 
Buffalo  Bill  had  made  arrangements  to  obtain  assistance  when- 
ever it  should  be  needed.  A  smoke  in  the  direction  of  the  hunt- 
ing-ground was  the  signal  for  the  ofiicers  at  the  end  of  the  track 
to  send  reinforcements.  Then,  when  the  Indians  gave  them  a 
little  leisure,  he  set  fire  to  the  grass  on  the  windward  side  of  the 
wagon.  The  fire  spread  rapidly,  and  as  the  dense  column  of 
smoke  arose,  they  knew  that  help  would  soon  come.  The  In- 
dians, not  understanding  this  movement,  again  opened  the  attack 
upon  them,  but  retreated  as  the  cavalry  advanced  across  th^ 
prairie.  Bufi'alo  Bill  and  Scotty  pointed  out  to  the  soldiers  thf 
five  ^^  good"  Indians  that  lay  on  the  field  of  battle. 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


Shortly  after  this  occurred  a  unique  match,  being  nothing  less 
than  buflPalo  killing  for  the  championship  and  five  hundred  dob 
lars  a  side.  The  contestants  were  Buffalo  Bill  and  Billy  Comstock, 
who  had  an  excellent  reputation  as  hunter,  scout  and  guide. 

The  hunt  w^as  to  begin  at  eight  in  the  morning,  and  last  eight 
hours.  Great  interest  was  felt  in  it,  not  only  on  the  plains,  but 
as  far  east  as  the  Mississippi,  one  excursion  party  of  St.  Louis- 
ans  numbering  about  a  hundred,  A  referee  was  to  follow  eacl 
man,  and  keep  count  of  the  buffaloes  he  killed.  The  first  run 
'was  decidedly  im  Cody's  favor,  owing  to  the  method  he  adopted 
no  less  than  to  the  superior  accomplishments  of  Brigham.  Com- 
stock  chased  his  buffaloes,  firing  at  them  as  they  bounded  along; 
so  that  his  game  lay  scattered  over  a  line  nine  miles  long,  Buffalo 
Bill  rode  towards  the  head  of  the  herd,  killing  the  leaders,  when 
the  bewildered  followers  would  circle  around  the  hunter.  Not 
only  did  he  kill  more  buffaloes  with  less  work  for  his  horse"  but 
his  game  lay  within  a  comparatively  small  circle.  The  result  of 
the  first  run — thirty-eight  to  twenty -three — was  duly  announced^ 
and  the  hunters  and  their  friends  refreshed  with  champagne. 

Thef  had  not  rested  long,  when  they  saw  another  herd  com 
ing  towards  them,  and  charged  into  it.  It  consisted  chiefly  of 
cows  and  calves,  which  are  very  much  quicker  in  their  move< 
ments  than  the  bulls,  and  was  only  a  small  drove,  so  that  the  re. 
suit  was  not  large ;  changing  the  score  from  fifty-six  to  thirty 
seven.  When  a  third  drove  was  found,  Buffalo  Bill  concluded 
that  as  he  had  now  some  odds  to  give  his  opponent,  he  would 
ride  without -saddle  or  bridle.  The  killing  of  thirteen  buffaloes 
occupied  the  remainder  of  the  eight  hours,  and  Cody  was  de- 
clared victor,  the  score  being  sixty-nine  to  forty-six. 

This  reckless  slaughter  was  rather  wanton  sport.  But  it  was 
certainly  more  sportsmanlike  than  the  practice  on  the  early  Pa- 
cific Eailroad  trains,  when, the  iron  horse  sometimes  being  check- 
ed by  the  passage  across  the  track  of  a  great  herd,  the  passengers 
amused  themselves  by  shooting  the  noble  animals  down  from 
the  car  windows,  etc. 

In  May,  1868,  the  railroad  was  finished  to  Sheridan,  and  Buf- 
falo Bill's  services  were  no  longer  required.  As  scouts  were  in 
great  demand  on  account  of  the  Indian  war  which  was  then  rag- 
ing, he  concluded  to  engage  again  in  that  work.  No  difiiculty, 
of  course,  was  experienced  in  securing  an  appointment  as  scout 
and  guide^  and  he  was  ordered  to  report  to  Ft.  Larned  for  duty. 


BUIFALO  blLJU 


429 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


Soon  after  his  appointment,  he  being  special  scout  to  Gen.  Ha- 
zen,  that  officer  left  Fort  Larned  with  an  escort  of  twenty  sol- 
diers, with,  of  course,  Buffalo  Bill,  for  Fort  Harker,  The  party  ar- 
rived at  Fort  Zarah  at  noon  of  the  same  day,  where  Gen.  Hazen 
left  his  guard,  with  instructions  for  them  to  return  the  next  day; 
and  he  proceeded  alone  to  his  destination.  The  scout  did  not 
wish  to  wait,  and  telling  the  sergeant  in  command  of  the  squad 
what  he  intended  to  do,  saddled  up  his  mule  and  started  back 
alone.  He  had  gone  about  half  the  distance  when  he  was  sudden- 
ly jumped^'  by  about  forty  Indians,  who  came  dashing  up  to 
him,  extending  their  hands  with  the  greeting:  "How,  how! 
P'^cognizing  them  as  some  of  the  very  redskins  who  had  lately 
been  hanging  around  Fort  Larned,  he  extended  his  hand;  think- 
ing  it  best  to  respond  thus  to  their  overtures,  although  they  had 
on  their  war-paint  and  were  evidently  on  the  war-path.  Stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  to  one  of  them,  it  was  grasped  tightly,  and  he 
Was  pulled  violently  forward ;  at  the  same  moment  another  seiz' 
ed  the  bridle  of  his  mule,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  i^ 
he  was  completely  surrounded,  his  revolvers  jerked  from  the 
holsters,  and  he  was  rendered  nearly  senseless  by  a  blow  on  the 
head  from  a  tomahawk.  The  warrior  who  had  hold  of  the  bridle 
of  his  mule  dashed  off  towards  the  Arkansas  Eiver,  and  after 
them  came  the  others,  yelling  with  delight. 

Looking  towards  the  river,  Buffalo  Bill  saw  on  the  opposite 
side  an  immense  village  moving  down  the  bank,  and  was  more 
than  ever  convinced  that  the  Indians  were  on  the  war-path.  It 
was  a  military  council,  then,  into  which  his  captors  ushered  him 
a  few  moments  later,  and  in  which  he  recognized  wily  old  Sa 
tanta  and  several  others  whom  he  knew.  After  a  talk  among 
themselves,  which  lasted  for  some  time,  and  which  he  could  not 
understand,  Satanta  asked  him  where  he  had  been.  A  happy 
thought  struck  him,  and  he  answered : 

"  Tve  been  after  a  herd  of  whoa-haws.^' 

"The  effect  was  electrical,  for  the  Indians  had  been  out  of 
meat  for  several  weeks,  and  the  large  herd  of  cattle  which  had 
been  promised  to  them  had  not  yet  arrived.  Eaq:erly  Satanta 
questioned  him  as  to  where  the  cattle  were. 

"  A  few  miles  back,^'  was  the  reply ;  "  Gen.  Hazen  sent  me  to 
tell  you  that  the  whoa-haws  were  coming,  and  were  intended  for 
your  people.^' 

"  Big  chief  says  whoa-haws  for  Satanta  and  his  warriors 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


421 


Yes,  Tve  been  sent  to  bring  them  to  you/'  But  the  Kiowas 
have  treated  me  badly  and  the  big  chief  will  be  very  angry.  Why 
have  your  young  men  abused  me  so  V 

"My  young  men  v^ant  to  have  heap  fun,  and  want  to  see  if 
Long-Hair  very  brave/' 

Buffalo  Bill  knew  that  this  contained  no  more  truth  than 
his  own  statements,  but  did  not  let  the  Indians  see  that  he 
thought  so. 


"HOW,  how!" 


Turning  to  his  young  men,  Satanta  bade  them  restore  the  arms 
which  they  had  seized,  and  scolded  them  for  what  they  had  done. 
Having  learned  from  Buffalo  Bill  that  there  were  soldiers  with 
the  herd,  he  thought  it  was  best  to  get  the  cattle  without  light- 
ing for  them.  After  a  short  council  of  the  chiefs,  he  again  went 
to  the  prisoner  and  asked  : 

"  You  go  'cross  the  river  and  bring  whoa-haws  down  to  the 
bank,  so  we  get  'em 

"Of  course,  that  is  my  orders  from  Gen.  Hazen." 

"Long-Hair  mustnH  be  angry  at  my  young  men;  they  just 
want  some  fun.    You  want  warriors  go  with  you 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


"  No,  it  will  be  better  for  me  to  go  alone ;  then  the  soldiers  can 
go  straight  on  to  Port  Lamed,  and  Til  drive  the  herd  down  to 
the  river-bottom. 

Wheeling  his  mule  around,  he  departed  for  the  cattle,  which^ 
it  is  needless  to  say,  existed  only  in  his  imagination.  But  the 
Indians  were  less  unsuspicious  than  he  had  thought  them,  for 
when  he  had  reached  the  farther  side  of  the  river,  he  looked  back 
and  saw  ten  or  fifteen  of  them  following  him.  When  he  turned 
towards  Fort  Larned,  they  pursued  him  at  full  speed.  He  v.^as 
still  four  miles  from  the  post,  when  he  heard  the  evening  gun. 
Little  did  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  think  that  there  was  a  man 
flying  for  his  life  from  the  Indians,  and  trying  to  reach  the  post. 
The  pursuers  were  gaining  on  him,  two  or  three  being  only  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  behind  him  when  he  crossed  Pawnee  Fork,  two 
tniles  from  the  fort.  Just  as  he  gained  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
stream,  he  saw  some  soldiers  not  far  off,  in  a  government  wagon. 
Yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  he  rode  up  to  them,  and  told  them 
that  the  Indians  were  after  him. 

Let's  drive  the  wagon  into  the  trees,^^  suggested  Denver  Jim, 
^^and  we'll  lay  for  them/' 

Hurriedly  driving  in  among  the  trees  and  low  bushes,  they  se- 
creted  themselves  and  waited  for  the  Indians.  Before  many  min- 
utes they  came.  Two  of  them  were  allowed  to  pass,  but  two  of 
the  next  group  fell  at  the  first  fire  from  the  bushes.  The  others 
discovered  that  they  were  riding  upon  deadly  rifles,  and  wheel- 
ing their  ponies,  retreated  in  hot  haste,  soon  joined  by  the  first 
two.  Scalping  the  two  Indians  that  they  had  killed,  securing 
their  arms  and  catching  their  horses,  Buffalo  Bill  and  his  com- 
panions made  their  way  to  the  post.  Here  he  learned  that  ear- 
lier in  the  day  Satanta  and  his  men  had  surprised  and  killed  a 
'J)arty  of  woodchoppers  and  herders,  seven  or  eight  men  in  all. 
The  soldiers  who  had  afforded  him  such  timely  assistance  had 
been  sent  out  for  the  bodies  of  these  men.  The  garrison,  hearing 
the  guns  in  this  last  engagement,  thought  that  the  chief  was  about 
to  attack  the  fort  with  all  his  forces;  all  was  excitement  th-^^r-. 
and  every  preparation  being  made  to  withstand  the  attack.  Cap- 
tain Parker,  who  was  in  command,  was  endeavoring  to  get  some 
one  to  take  important  despatches  to  Gen.  Sheridan  at  Port  Hays. 
Kone  of  the  scouts  were  willing  to  undertake  the  trip,  as  the 
night  was  so  dark  and  stormy  that  each  distrusted  his  own  ability 
to  find  the  way ;  besides  this,  there  was  the  danger  of  Indians. 


BUFFALO  BII 


x23 


f>uffalo  Bill  knew  the  country  better  than  any  of  the  others, 
but  he  was  tired  with  his  long  day's  ride.  When  he  Sctw  that  no 
one  else  would  go,  he  offered  himself,  provided  he  should  be 
furnished  with  a  good  horse.  He  was  offered  a  choice  of  all  the 
horses  in  the  garrison,  and  set  out  at  ten  o^clock  for  his  sixty- 
fi/e  miles'  ride.  The  journey  was  accomplished  without  injury 
to  the  scout.  Despatches  were  to  be  taken  to  Fort  Dodge,  and 
as  no  one  else  would  volunteer,  Cody  started  that  afternoon. 
Returning  from  Dodge  to  Lamed,  thence  to  Hays,  made  a  trip 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty-five  miles  in . fifty-eight  riding  hours 
since  he  started  with  Gen.  Hazen ;  a  journey  mostly  in  the  night, 
over  a  wild  country,  where  there  were  no  roads  to  follow  and 
where  he  must  be  continually  on  the  outlook  for  Indians.  So 
well  did  Gen.  Sheridan  appreciate  his  willingness  to  undertake 
missions  which  meant  long  and  dangerous  rides,  that  he  appoint- 
ed him  chief  of  scouts  and  guide  for  the  Indian  expedition  upon 
which  the  Fifth  Cavalry  was  soon  to  be  sent. 

As  this  regiment  lay  in  camp  on  the  South  Fork  of  the  Solo- 
mon.  Col.  Eoyal,  who  was  in  command,  requested  Cody  to  go 
out  and  kill  some  buffaloes  for  the  boys. 

^^All  right.  Colonel,  send  along  wagons  to  bring  in  the  meat.'^^ 

^^I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  sending  out  my  wagons  until  I  know 
there  is  something  to  be  brought  in,''  replied  the  colonel,  with 
dignity;  "kill  your  buffaloes  first  and  then  Til  send  out  the  wa- 
gons." 

Cody  said  nothing,  went  out,  killed  a  half-dozen  buffaloes,  and 
returning,  asked  the  colonel  to  send  out  his  wagons  for  the  meat. 
The  next  afternoon  Col.  Eoyal  again  requested  .him  to  go  out 
and  get  some  fresh  buffalo  meat,  l^othing  was  said  on  either 
side  about  wagons,  and  the  officer  expected  to  have  to  send  them 
out  when  the  hunter  returned.  Eiding  out  some  distance,  Buffalo 
Bill,  coming  up  with  a  small  herd,  managed  to  get  seven  of  them 
headed  straight  for  the  camp.  Instead  of  shooting  them  he  ran 
them  at  full  speed  right  into  the  camp,  and  then  killed  them  all 
in  rapid  succession.  Col.  Eoyal  came  up  to  him,  and  angrily  de- 
manded an  explanation. 

"  I  can't  allow  any  such  business  as  this,  Cody.  "What  do  you 
mean  by  it  ?" 

"  I  didn't  care  about  asking  for  wagons  this  time,  colonel,  so  I 
thought  I  would  make  the  buffiiloes  furnish  their  own  transpor- 
tation." 


BUFFALO  BILL  AND  HIS  HORSE  BRI^^KAM. 


425 


The  colonel  ?iad  no  more  to  sa^^^  the  answer  was  unanswerable. 

Encamping  on  Saline  River,  Major  Brown  had  his  private  am* 
bulance  brought  out,  and  invited  Cody  to  accompany  him  to  the 
railroad  station  to  meet  Lieut.  Bache,  who  was  expected  to  fill  a 
vacancy  in  his  battalion.  Arriving  at  the  station  just  as  the  train 
got  in,  they  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  lieutenant,  and  giving 
him  the  back  seat  in  the  ambulance,  headed  for  camp.  Major 
Brown  was  inclined  to  be  mischievous,  and  had  said,  as  they  set 
out: 


MAIvIJVG  BUFJb^ALOES  FURNISH  THEIR  OWN  TRANSPORTATION. 


"Now,  Cody,  when  we  come  back,  we'll  give  Bache  a  ii/^ely 
rfde  and  shake  him  up  a  little.'^ 

The  road  was  rough,  and  the  night  was  dark.  Taking  the 
reins  from  his  driver,  Major  Brown  at  once  began  whipping  the 
mules.  To  further  encourage  them,  he  pulled  out  his  revolver 
and  fired  several  shots.    Onward  they  jolted. 

•'Is  this  the  way  j'ou  break  in  all  your  lieutenants,  major 
inquired  the  new  comer,  good-humoredly. 

*'  Oh,  no;  I  don't  do  this  as  a  regular  thing;  but  it's  the  way 
we  frequently  ride  in  this  country." 

Battling  down  a  steep  hill  at  full  speed,  just  as  they  reached 
the  bottom,  the  front  wheels  struck  a  ditch  over  which  the  mules 


BU  iTi' ALO  BILL, 


had  jumped.  The  sudden  stoppage  nearly  pitched  Major  Browr 
and  Cody  out  on  the  wheels.  Lieutenaiit  Baehe  came  flying 
headlong  to  the  front  of  the  vehicle. 

"Take  a  back  seat,  lieutenant.^* 

"Major,  I  have  just  left  that  seat.'* 

The  w*agon  was  soon  lifted  out  of  the  ditch  and  they  drove  in- 
to camp  in  fine  style  ;  but  the  account  which  Lieutenant  Bachei 
gave  of  his  ride  caused  it  to  be  remembered  for  a  long  time  by 
the  officers  of  the  Fifth. 

Our  scout  won  the  favor  of  G-en.  Carr,  who  knew  the  habitual 
exaggerations  of  the  men  belonging  to  this  branch  of  the  service, 
and  did  not,  until  he  had  proved  him,  think  much  of  one  who  said 
nothing  about  himself.  Finding,  July  11,  1869,  that  they  were 
nearing  the  Indians  Avith  whom  they  had  had  several  unimport- 
ant skirmishes,  and  whom  they  had  been  trailing  for  some  time, 
he  and  his  Pawnee  companions  advanced  cautiously,  and  at  last 
discovered  the  village  encamped  in  the  sandhills  south  of  the 
South  Platte,  at  Summit  Springs.  Leaving  the  Pawnees  to 
keep  watch,  Cody  returned  to  the  regiment  about  ten  miles  in 
the  rear,  and  reported  to  Gen,  Carr.  At  the  scout's  suggestion 
the  troops  were  ordered  to  make  a  circuit  to  the  north ;  so  that 
if  the  Indians  had  detected  their  presence,  they  might  attack  the 
village  on  a  side  where  they  were  not  expected. 

Thus  avoiding  discovery  by  the  Sioux  scouts,  and  confident  of 
giving  them  a  complete  surprise,  Gen.  Carr  kept  the  command 
wholly  out  of  sight,  halting  to  give  final  orders  when  within  a  mile 
of  the  village.  Halting  again  on  the  top  of  the  hill  overlooking 
the  Indian  camp,  the  signal  was  given  to  charge,  and  the  cavalry 
dashed  down  upon  the  village.  The  Sioux  had  driven  up  theii 
horses  and  were  just  getting  ready  to  make  a  move  of  the  camp 
when  they  saw  the  soldiers  riding  down  upon  them.  Many  of 
them  jumped  upon  their  ponies,  and  leaving  everything  else 
behind,  advanced  to  meet  the  charge;  but,  when  they  saw  the  force 
with  which  they  would  have  to  cope,  rode  rapidly  away,  while 
tJiose  not  fortunate  enough  to  be  mounted,  fled  for  safety  to  the 
iieighboring  hills.  Through  the  village  rode  the  soldiers,  firing 
fight  and  left,  and  the  scene  quickly  became  one  of  the  wildest- 
confusion. 

Keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  white  women,*'  had  been  th©  order 
given  by  Gen.  Carr,  who  was  confident  that  the  Sioux  had  such 
captives  among  them.    The  company  which  had  been  ordered  to 


BUFFALO 


take  possessioB  ©f  we  village  after  its  capture  soon  found  the 

dead  body  of  one  white  woman,  the  head  cloven  by  a  hatchet, 
and  near  by  lay  another,  wounded.  The  latter  was  a  Swede, 
and  could  not  t'alk  English,  but  through  a  soldier  of  her  own 
aationality  they  learned  that  both  wounds  had  been  the  work  of 
a  squaw  who  wishec  prevent  their  telling  how  cruelly  they 
had  been  treated. 

The  booty  was  ex%  amely  rich.  Much  of  the  property  acquired 
by- recent  raids  upoi  white  settlers,  considerable  stores  of  gold 
and  silver,  besides  ei^ht  hundred  ponies  and  mules,  fell  into  their 
hands.  A  hundred  and  forty  Indians  had  been  killed,  a  hundred 
and  twenty  squaws  ai  d  pappooses  were  taken  prisoners.  The  two 
hundred  lodges,  witi  all  the  dried  buffalo  meat  and  other  provi- 
sions, were  burned,  i^ad  the  body  of  the  murdered  white  womar- 
buried.  But  the  Sioax  had  not  fled^  they  had  only  retreated, 
to  advance  again  upon  the  attacking  party.  Having  recovered 
from  their  surprise,  they  rode  back  towards  the  village,  and  the 
whole  prairie  was  soon  covered  with  the  combatants. 

Along  the  Indian  line  of  battle  rode  the  chief,  lall  Bull, 
mounted  on  a  spirited  bay  horse,  encouraging,  cheeriijg,  urging, 
entreating  his  men  to  follow  him  and  fight  until  they  died. 
Cody,  on  the  skirmish  line,  could  hear  him  telling  them  that 
they  had  lost  everything,  that  they  were  ruined,  that  the  white 
soldiers  must  be  driven  back.  Treacherous  and  cunning  as  he 
was,  with,  perhaps,  an  unquenchable  thirst  for  liquor,  and  not 
hesitating  to  beg  any  thing  whatever  from  the  white  man,  we  can 
hot  but  respect  the  courage  of  the  man,  the  devotion  of  the  leader 
io  the  cause  of  his  race,  as  he  urg  d  his  warriors  onward  to  vic- 
tory or  death.  To  Buffalo  Bill,  with  the  mad  fire  of  battle  counts- 
ing  in  his  veins,  this  was  b^it  a  Sioux,  one  of  the  tribe  that  could 
not  be  trusted,  and  he  determined  to  deprive  the  Indians  of  their 
leader. 

Creeping  to  a  ravine  the  head  of  which  was  often  passed  by 
Tall  Bull  as  he  rode  to  and  fro  among  his  men,  he  waited  his 
opportunity.  Not  many  minutes  had  passed  before  it  came,  and 
raising  his  gun,  he  fired  at  the  mark,  scarcely  thirty  yards  away. 
The  chief  reeled  and  fell  from  his  saddle,  and  the  frightened 
horse  dashed  into  the  ranks  of  the  cavalry.  The  soldier  who  se- 
cured him  had  seen  his  rider  fall,  and  readily  relinquished  him 
to  the  scout.  Mounting  his  prize,  he  rode  down  to  where  the 
prisoners  were,  only  to  be  greeted  by  the  pitiful  crying  of  a 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


squaw,  the  wife  of  Tall  Bull,  the  same  who  had  killed  the  one 

white  woman  and  wounded  the  other. 

The  animal,  which  his  captor  named  Tall  Bull,  after  its  form- 
er owner,  was  for  four  years  afterwards  the  fastest  runner  in  the 
state  of  Nebraska.  A  pony  obtained  at  this  fight,  and  named 
Powder  Pace,  became  as  noted  through  the  stories  of  'Ned  Bunt- 
line  as  Tall  Bull  by  his  speed.  Cody  soon  made  Tali  Bull  pay. 
At  first  no  one  would  bet  on  the  horse;  but  he  proved  more 

successful  on  his  native 
prairies  than  had  ^^Old 
Mountain  some  years 
before  in  St.  Louis. 
Powder  Pace,  too, 
proved  to  be  an  excel- 
lent racer,  jumping 
away  so  quickly  on  his 
first  trial  that  he  left 
his  rider  sitting  on  the 
ground;  but  he  dashed 
ahead  and  wcfii  the  race 
without  him.  Powder 
Pace  was  afterwards 
stolen  by  the  Indians, 
and  there  was  no  horse 
fleet  enough  to  over- 
take the  thief. 

We  now  pass  over 
nearly  two  years,  spent 
in  scouting  and  hunt- 
ing. He  was  guide  to 
several  minor  expedi- 
tions against  the  In- 
dians during  this  time, 
but  there  is  but  littlo 
interest  attaching  to  the  incidents  of  them.  He  also  accompanied 
several  English  gentlemen  upon  buffalo  hunts,  but  however  exci- 
ting to  the  hunters  from  over  the  sea  the  chase  may  have  been, 
it  was  not  a  circumstance  to  the  match  with  Billy  ComstocR. 

In  the  spring  of  1871  we  find  him  appointed  justice  of  the  peace, 
at  the  desire  of  Gen.  Emory,  who  was  much  annoyed  by  the  pet- 
ty offences  which  the  civilians  about  the  post  committed.  Just 


THE  SHOOTING  OF  TALL  BULL. 


BUFFALO  BILk 


after  he  had  received  his  commissioBj  and  before  he  was  supplied 
with  blank  forms  ©r  statute  books,  a  man  came  rushing  up  t®  his 
house^  to  get  out  a  writ  ef  replevin,  to  recover  possesgion  ^ 
horse  which  a  stranger  was  taking  out  of  the  county. 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


Where's  the  fellow  that's  got  your  horse?"  asked  Justice 
Cody. 

Going  up  the  road,  about  two  miles  away/'  was  the  answer. 
All  right;  ril  get  the  writ  ready  in  a  minute  or  two/' 
Saddling  up  his  horse,  and  taking  his  gun,  he  said  to  the  man : 
^'  That's  the  best  writ  of  replevin  I  know  of;  come  along,  and 
we'll  get  that  horse,  or  know  the  reason  why." 
I    Overtaking  the  stranger,  who  was  driving  a  herd  of  horses, 
the  following  dialogue  ensued : 

"  Hello,  sir !  I  am  an  officer,  and  have  an  attachment  for  thai 
horse." 

Well,  sir,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 
^'  I  proj)ose  to  take  you  and  the  horse  back  to  the  post." 
"  You  can  take  the  horse,  but  I  haven't  time  to  go  with  you." 
"  You'll  have  to  take  time,  or  pay  the  costs  here  and  now." 
How  much  are  the  costs  ?" 
Twenty  dollars." 
Here's  your  money." 
The  stranger  went  on  his  way,  the  complainant  went  home 
with  his  horse,  and  the  justice  pocketed  the  costs.  After  a  while 
he  learned  more  about  the  formalities  of  law,  but  he  could  not 
have  complied  more  faithfully  with  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  often 
administered. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  1871,  Cody  accompanied  on  a  hunting  ex- 
pedition a  large  party,  which  numbered,  among  others,  Gen, 
Sheridan,  and  many  noted  newspaper  men  and  soldiers.  Per- 
haps the  pleasure  enjoyed  at  this  time  had  something  to  do  witb 
the  order  which,  later  in  the  winter,  reached  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  as  his  regiment  was  leaving  for  Ari^ 
zona:  Don't  take  Cody  "vith  you."  Certain  it  is  that  when 
preparations  were  being  i  ^e  for  a  big  buffalo  hunt  for  the  Eus- 
sian  Grand  Duke  Alexis,  January,  1872,  he  was  selected  to 
show  the  foreign  visitor  how  to  kill  buffaloes.  The  friendly 
Sioux  chief.  Spotted  Tail,  was  induced  to  come,  with  a  number 
of  his  warriors,  to  show  how  the  Indian  looked  and  acted  on  his 
native  2)lairiS. 

The  Eussian  prince  arrived  at  the  appointed  time,  Buffalo  Bill 
was  introduced  to  him,  and  after  the  Indians  had  given  their  ex- 
hibition  of  horsemanship  and  sham  fights,  and  celebrated  a  grand 
war-dance,  they  retired  to  dream  of  the  buffalo  hunt  the  next 
day.    With  a  commendable  desire  to  lose  as  little  time  as  possi' 


tie,  the  grand  duke  had  asked  many  questions  of  his  ^uidc  and 
tutor:  ^^How  do  you  shoot  buffaloes?  What  kind  of  a  weapon 
do  you  use?  Any  particular  style?  Am  I  going  to  have  a  good 
horse?'^  Cody  assured  him  that  he  would  have  Buckskin  Joe 
to  ride,  a  steed  whose  accomplishments  in  the  matter  of  buffalo 
hunting  were  equalled  only  by  those  of  the  late  Brigham  •  and 
that  all  he  would  have  to  do,  after  getting  into  a  herd,  would  be 
-  J  sit  on  the  horse's  back  and  fire  away. 


Much  was  said  in  the  newspapers  of  the  da;7  about  this  hunt, 
and  the  grand  duke's  success.    With  a  truly  republican  desire  to 


jHOWIKG  THJi  GRA^^D  DUKE  HOW  TO  KILL  BUFFALOES. 


detract  from  a  prince's  merit  and  add  to  a  citizen's,  one  asserted 
that  Buffalo  Bill  killed  Alexis'  first  buffalo  for  him  ;  another, 
equally  ill-natured,  insisted  that  Cody  held  the  animal  whi^e  the 
prince  shot  it.  Having  given  these  two  versions,  the  veracious 
historian  proceeds  to  state  the  third  and  more  credible,  since 
supported  by  the  testimony  of  Buffalo  Bill  himself.  They  had 
not  gone  far  before  they  saw  a  buffalo  herd,  and  were  soon  in  the 
midst  of  it.  Preferring  at  first  to  use  his  pistol,  Alexis  emptied 
the  six  chambers  without  producing  the  slightest  effect.  Eiding 
up  to  his  side,  Cody  exchanged  revolvers  with  him,  and  the  six 
shots  in  the  second  went  the  way  of  those  in  the  first.  Seeing 


432 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


that  the  animals  would  make  their  escape  without  his  killing  one 
of  them,  Cody  rode  np  to  the  prince  again,  gave  him  his  gun,  and 
told  him  to  urge  on  his  horse  close  to  the  buffaloes,  and  he  would 
give  him  the  word  when  to  shoot.  A  blow  from  his  master's 
whip,  and  Buckskin  Joe,  in  a  few  jumps,  carried  his  rider  within 
ten  feet  of  a  huge  bull. 

'^N"ow  is  your  time  ! cried  the  teacher ;  the  pupil  fired,  and 
down  went  the  buffalo.  Stopping  his  horse,  the  grand  duke 
dropped  his  gun  and  waved  his  hat,  the  suite  came  galloping  up, 
and  soon  the  champagne  corks  began  to  fly  in  honor  of  his  suc- 
cess in  killing  the  first  buffalo  in  the  hunt.  A  scratch'^  shot  on 
the  way  home  brought  down  another,  and  the  hides  and  heads 
of  both  animals  were  carefully  preserved..  The  imperial  pupil 
seems  to  have  improved  rapidly  under  the  tuition  of  the  famous 
plainsman,  for  within  the  two  or  three  days  which  they  spent 
in  camp,  he  killed  eight. 

Desiring  to  see  an  Indian  buffalo-hunt,  one  was  arranged  in 
which  the  Sioux  used  their  more  primitive  weapons;  the  long 
iron-tipped  lance  of  tough  wood,  and  the  bow  and  arrow.  One 
cMef  drove  an  arrow  entirely  through  a  buffalo,  to  the  grand 
iuke's  astonishment. 

Eeturning,  Gen.  Sheridan  called  out  from  the  carriage: 

"Cody,  get  in  here  and  show  the  duke  how  you  can  driva 
Reed  will  exchange  places  with  you  and  ride  your  horse." 

Later,  as  they  approached  Medicine  Creek: 

"Shake  'em  up  a  little.  Bill,  and  give  us  some  old-time  stage- 
driving." 

No  more  was  needed.  On  the  horses  bounded,  faster  and  fast- 
er, until  they  came  to  a  steep  hill  which  led  down  into  the  valley 
of  the  Medicine;  straight  down  the  hill  they  went,  bounding 
along  over  the  ruts,  while  both  general  and  prince  were  kept 
busy  holding  on  to  their  seats.  In  fine  old  style  they  dashed  into 
the  camp  where  they  were  to  obtain  a  fresh  relay,  but  the  grand 
duke  begged  t-o  be  excused  from  any  more  of  the  same  kind. 
But  although  preferring  to  go  a  little  slower  than  he  had  been 
driven,  he  was  not  ungrateful  for  the  attention  paid  him,  and 
made  Cody  several  valuable  presents. 

AVe  next  find  our  hero  in  the  eastern  states,  whither  he  had 
Deen  cordially  invited  by  many  of  those  whom  he  had  accompa- 
uiad  on  hunts.  Attending  one  evening,  while  in  New  York,  the 
reprf^sentation  of  "Buffalo  Bill,  the  King  of  Border  Men/'  be 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


433 


was  called  upon  the  stage  by  the  audience,  as  soon  as  his  presence 
in  the  theater  was  known.  Of  the  speech  with  which  he  respond- 
ed no  record  remains,  for  no  one  heard  it;  such  was  his  embar- 
rassment that  he  could  not  utter  a  word.  Judge  of  his  surprise 
when  the  manager  offered  him  a  handsome  salary  to  take  the 
part  of  SuflPalo  Bill  himself!  The  offer  was  declined,  and  only 
the  indomitable  perseverance  of  Ned  Buntline  induced  him  to  go 
upon  the  stage  in  the  fall  of  the  same  year. 


AN  ARROW  THROUGH  A  BUFFALO. 


In  the  meantime,  he  had  been  elected  a  member  of  the  Neb- 
raska Legislature,  chiefly  by  the  effbrts  of  his  friends,  as  he  cared 
very  little  about  it  and  took  no  pains  to  secure  an  election.  He 
resigned  his  seat  almost  immediately,  arid  with  Texas  Jack,  went 
to  Chicago  to  meet  Buntline.  Disgusted  by  the  facts  that  a  per- 
formance was  to  take  place  in  four  nights  from  that  date,  that 
the  drama  was  not  written,  the  company  formed,  or  the  "  stars 
trained,  the  manager  of  the  theater  where  they  were  to  play  re- 
fused to  have  anything  to  do  with  it ;  but  Buntline  rented  the 
^^*us^,  wrote  his  drama  in  four  hours,  set  his  stars  to  studying, 
fT^nt  out  and  engaged  the  minor  actors,  came  back  and  trained 
his  stars,  and  actually  had  everything  in  readiness  at  the  time 
Set.    The  hero  forgot  his  part  wkeahe  came  before  the  audienoOo 


434 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


but  skillfully  encouraged  by  Buntline,  supplied  its  place  by  orig- 
inal speeches,  and  brought  down  the  house  by  describing  a  hrvf 
with  a  businessman  of  that  city,  whom  everybody  knew. 

Wild  Bill  joined  the  company  in  the  season  of  1873-4,  when 
the  original  stars  were  already  experienced  actors.  He  urged 
upon  his  friend  that  they  were  making  fools  of  themselves,  and 
all  the  people  were  laughing  at  them ;  Buffalo  Bill  replied  that 
he  didn't  care  for  that,  as  long  as  they  came  and  bought  tickets. 


much  the  same  way ;  traveling  in  the  dramatic  season  from  place 
to  place,  hunting  and  scouting  during  the  summer.  In  1876,  we 
learn  that  the  theatrical  season  closed  somewhat  earlier  than  usu- 
al, for  the  Sioux  war  had  begun,  and  our  hero  snuffed,  like  a 
charger,  the  wind  of  the  powder/'  Proceeding  to  the  west,  he 
expected  to  be  in  time  to  join  the  expedition  under  Gen.  Crook, 
who  wished  to  engage  him  as  scout;  but  learning  that  he  was  too 
late  to  do  this,  and  that  Gen.  Carr  with  the  Fifth  Cavalry  was 
on  his  way  to  join  Gen.  Crook,  he  accepted  the  position  of  guide 
and  chief  of  scouts  under  his  old  commander,  with  his  old  regi 
ment. 

Operating  on  the  South  Fork  of  the  Cheyenne  and  at  the  foot 
of  the  Black  Hills  for  about  two  weeks,  they  had  several  skir« 


It  is  but  right  to 
say  here  that  Wild 
BilTs  message 
when  he  finally  left 
the  troupe  did  not 
result  in  any  per- 
manent estrange- 
ment between  the 
two  plainsmen,  and 
although  he  re- 
mained firm  in  the 
determination  not 
to  have  anything 


i^i^     more  to   do-  with 


the  ^^old  show," 
they  were  always 


if  the  best  of  friends. 


For  some  years 
now,  we  find  the 
time  passed  in 


BUFFALO  BIIiL. 


435 


mishes  with  .small  bands  of  roving  Indians^  who  were  easily  re- 
pulsed; and  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  they  had  driven  all 
the  redskins  out  of  that  section  of  the  country,  the  regiment 
started  back  to  Fort  Laramie.  But  they  had  not  gone  far,  when 
a  scout  arrived  in  camp  with  the  terrible  tidings  of  the  massacre 
on  the  Little  Big  Horn.  There  was  no  fear  for  themselves,  yet 
the  news  spread  distnay  through  the  camp,  and  many  a  soldier 
vowed  to  avenge  "the  flower  of  our  knighthood^  the  whole  ar- 
my^s  pride    — and  the  roughest  man  of  the  regiment 

"  Had  no  trouble  to  muster 
A  tear,  or  perhaps  a  hundred, 
At  the  news  of  the  death  of  Custer." 

The  Fifth  was  ordered  to  proceed  at  once  to  Fort  Fetterman, 
and  thence  join  Gen.  Crook.  But  the  same  evening  that  the  scout 
arrived  with  the  news  and  the  order,  came  another,  with  the  in- 
formation that  eight  hundred  Cheyennes  were  on  their  way  to 
join  Sitting  Bull.  Deciding  to  take  the  responsibility  of  delay 
in  obeying  orders.  Gen.  Merritt,  who  was  now  in  command  of 
the  Fifth,  selected  five  hundred  men  to  intercept  the  Cheyennes. 
Making  a  forced  m£irch*back  to'  Warbonnet  Creek,  they  arrived 
there  before  the  Lidians.  That  the  enemy  had  not  crossed,  was 
ascertained  by  Cody,  who,  on  his  way  back  to  the  command,  dis- 
covered a  large  body  of  Indians  coming  up  from  the  south.  They 
proved  to  be  the  Che3^ennes,  and  the  cavalrymen  immediately 
withdrew  out  of  sight  until  an  attack  should  be  ordered;  while 
Gen.  Merritt,  accompanied  by  Cody  and  two  or  three  aides,  went 
on  a  reconnoissance  to  a  neighboring  hill. 

From  the  summit  of  this  they  saw  that  the  Indians  were  march- 
ing almost  directly  towards  them,  while  a  body  of  fifteen  ortwen- 
ty  dashed  off  to  the  direction  in  which  the  troops  had  come  the 
night  before.  For  a  moment  our  party  could  not  discover  the 
reason  for  this  maneuver,  but  it  was  reEdily  understood  when 
they  descried  that  this  detachment  was  chasing  two  soldiers, 
who  must  be  bringing  despatches  to  Gen.  Merritt.  Fearing  that 
they  would  succeed  in  intercepting  the  messengers,  the  command- 
er yet  did  not  wish  to  betray  the  presence  of  his  troops  by  send- 
ing soldiers  to  their  rescue.  Cody  suggested  that  when  the  cour- 
iers came  closer  to  the  command,  and  the  Indians  were  about  to 
charge,  he  be  allowed  to  take  the  scouts  and  cut  them  off  frona 
the  main  body  of  the  tribe. 

"All  right,'^  said  Gen.  Merritt;  "if  you  can  do  that,  go  ahead.'' 


436 


BOTPALO  BILL. 


Rushing  back  to  the  command,  and  selecting  fifteen  men,  he  re- 
turned  to  the  point  of  observation. 

G-o  in  now,  Cody,^'  ordered  the  general,    and  be  quick  about 
it.    They  are  about  to  charge  on  the  couriers.^' 

Dashing  down  the  hill,  they  charged  upon  the  Indians.  The 
running  fight  lasted  but  a  few  moments,  the  Indians  who  were 
not  killed  riding  off"  towards  the  main  body;  then  they  turned 
upon  the  pursuers,  and  a  young  Indian,  decked  in  all  the  paint 
and  ornaments  of  a  war-chief,  called  out  to  the  leader  of  the 
scouts,  in  the  Cheyenne  tongue: 

I  know  you,  Long-Hair  ;  if  you  want  to  fight,  come  and  fight 
me.'' 

It  was  a  challenge  not  to  be  disregarded.  Galloping  towards 
aach  other,  they  diminished  the  distance  between  them  to  thirty 
)^ards  before  a  shot  was  fired ;  raising  his  rifle  the  scout  took  ainj 
/  and  fired,  and  the  Indian'^s  horse  fell  to  the  ground.  Almost  at 
the  same  moment  his  own  horse  stumbled  and  fell,  but  it  Was  on- 
ly a  moment's  work  for  each  to  free  himself  from  his  fallen 
steed.  They  were  now  not  more  than  twenty  paces  apart.  Rais- 
ing their  rifles,  both  took  aim  at  the  same  instant;  one  ball 
whistled  past  the  scout,  without  harming  him;  the  other  struck 
the  Indian  in  the  breast,  and  he  fell. 

Even  as  he  struck  the  ground,  his  enemy  was  upon  him,  and 
while,  as  he  stood  so  far  in  advance  of  his  little  command,  a  body 
of  two  hundred  Indians  charged  down  upon  the  scout,  he  stopped 
o\erthe  prostrate  savage,  and  having  with  one  stroke  of  his 
knife  severed  the  scalp-lock  from  the  head,  swung  the  reeking 
trophy  and  its  gorgeous  adornments  in  the  air  with  the  words : 
The  first  scalp  for  Custer  ! " 

A  company  of  soldiers  had  been  ordered  to  his  rescue,  and  they 
came  not  a  moment  too  soon.  Seeing  that  the  Indians  could  not 
be  ambushed.  Gen.  Merritt  ordered  out  the  whole  regiment.  The 
fight  did  not  last  long,  and  the  Indians  soon  began  a  flying  re- 
treat. Pursued  for  thirty-five  miles,  they  were  forced  to  aban- 
don everything  that  impeded  their  flight  to  the  Red  Cloud 
agency,  while  the  troops  followed  them.  Arrived  there,  Cody 
learned  that  the  Indian  he  had  killed  was  Yellow  Hand,  the  son 
of  a  leading  chief  of  the  Cheyennes.  The  old  chief  offered  four 
mules  for  the  adornments  of  his  son,  but  they  were  not  for  sale. 

Accompanying  the  Big  Horn  and  Yellowstone  expedition,  after 
the  Fifth  had  joined  Gen.  Crook,  it  is  too  old  a  story  to  tell  of  his 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


437 


g^iiant  services  in  carrying  despatches  through  a  country  infest- 
ed by  hostile  Indians,  besides  presenting  all  the  difficulties  of  a 


THE  rmST  SCALP  FOR  CUSTER. 


wild  region  to  the  night  traveler.  "Where  other  scouts  dared  not 
go,  Buffalo  Bill  was  always  ready  to  volunteer.  So  we  leave 
him,  remembering  that  if  we  omit  mention  of  later  incidents^  it  is 
not  because  they  are  unworthy  of  him ;  but  it  must  be  remember- 
ed that  what  would  to  others  be  exciting  adventures,  are  to  him 
Dut  repetitions,  shadows,  of  the  events  of  his  earlier  life. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


MODEEK  INDIAN  MGHTEES  AND  WAES. 

IT  is  our  purpose  to  devote  the  present  and  following  chapter 
to  a  brief  account  of  the  more  famous  Indian  outbreaks  and 
Indian  fighters  of  the  last  quarter  of  a  century.  Much  must,  of 
course,  be  omitted  in  such  a  short  history;  and  in  many  cases  a 
bare  mention  must  suffice ;  but  we  hope  to  preserve  the  main 


THE  IDEAL  INDIAN. 


outlines,  with  here  and  there  the  touches  which  give  interest  to 


440  MODERN  INDIAN  FIGHTERS  AND  WARSc 

the  whole.    The  causes  of  the  conflicts  which  are  constantly 

i alarming  the  border,  are  not  hard  to  discover.  The  United 
States  makes  a  solemn  treaty  with  a  certain  tribe,  and  deliber- 
ately breaks  it  whenever  convenient ;  then,  in  the  language  of 
the  frontier,  Indians  are  Indians  — ^^which  nobody  can  deny" 
— not  the  noble  red  man  of  Cooper's  novels,  pausing  from  his 
hjMii  to  quaff  the  pure  water  that  gushes  from  the  rock,  but  the 
ydi  ty,  lying,  thieving  wretch,  who  hangs  about  the  frontier  sa- 


THE  REAL  ARTICLE. 


loons,  until  he  can  beg  or  steal  enough  whisky  to  sink  him  even 
lower  than  he  is  by  nature;  or  who,  failing  that,  becomes  the 
follower  of  some  chief  whose  sole  business  it  is  to  attack  the 
emigrant  trains  or  massacre  the  women  and  children  of  some 
lonely  cabin. 

THE  SIOUX  MASSACRE. 

While  the  great  Civil  War  was  convulsing  the  country,  while 
ir  ^veiy  home  the  news  of  raid  and  battle  was  anxiously  looked 


THE  SIOUX  MASSACRE. 


for,  in  a  State  far  from  the  scene  of  carnage,  which  perhaps 
felt  the  war  as  little  as  any  other,  there  occurred  one  of  the  most 
terrible  and  unprovoked  Indian  massacres  on  record.  The  prin- 
cipal Sioux  Eeservation  was  then  in  Minnesota,  covering  an  ex- 
tent of  twenty  by  one  hundred  and  forty  miles.  A  certain  year- 
ly sum  had  been  set  apart  by  the  United  States  Government  to 
provide  them  with  ammunition,  food  and  clothing;  but  in  1858 
it  was  decided  to  apply  a  considerable  portion  of  this  to  the 
civilization  of  the  tribe.  Every  effort  was  made  to  induce  them 
to  go  to  farming;  houses  were  built  and  furnished,  implements 
and  live  stock  provided,  and  a  system  of  rewards  of  merit 
instituted. 

But  the  Sioux  imagined  that  they  were  ill  treated  by  such  a 
use  of  their  annuity;  and  they  complained,  perhaps  with  justice, 
of  frauds  practiced  by  some  of  the  Indian  traders.  Certain  it 
Is,  that  in  August,  1862,  there  was  some  danger  apprehended; 
and  the  agent  thought  best  to  investigate.  He  found  the  new- 
ly-fledged farmers  busy,  and  apparently  happy;  while  Little 
Grow,  the  Chief,  was  superintending  the  building  of  his  new 
house,  the  gift  of  the  Great  Father  at  "Washington.  Two  days 
afterwards,  Sunday,  August  17th,  the  grateful  Indian  attended 
church,  and  listened  devoutly  to  the  service.  Surely  there  was 
no  danger. 

But  in  the  darkness  of  the  summer  night,  the  chief  warriors 
of  the  tribe  gathered  upon  the  devout  churchman's  farm.  Al- 
ready had  bands  of  Sioux  been  seen  roaming  the  country ;  near- 
'iy  the  whole  force  of  blanket  Indians^''  had  robbed  the  pro- 
vision warehouse  at  the  agency,  and  others  had  threatened  va- 
rious points;  but  they  had  been  driven  offhand  confidence  was 
restored  by  the  actions  of  Little  Crow. 

The  council  probably  met  only  to  perfect  a  plan  which  had 
long  been  discussed,  as  the  completeness  of  the  arrangements 
shows.  Before  midnight  it  had  broken  up,  runners  having  been 
sent  out  to  all  parts  of  the  reservation.  At  dawn  of  August 
18th  they  were  ready  for  their  task;  the  work  of  slaughter  be- 
gan. No  words  can  paint  the  horror  of  those  scenes;  the  set- 
tler, flying  to  warn  his  neighbor,  found  the  cabin  reeking  with 
blood,  and  returned  to  his  own  dwelling  only  to  be  butchered 
with  his  family.  Some,  more  fortunate,  escaped  to  the  forts, 
after  enduring  hardships  which  seem  almost  incredible,  and 
which,  in  some  cases,  actually  produced  insanity  j  or  reached  the 


MODERN  INDIAN  FIGHTERS  AND  WARS. 


larger  towns  only  to  be  threatened  with  starvation  by  reason  of 
the  suddenly  increased  demand  for  food.  Eighteen  counties 
were  laid  desolate,  and  forty  thousand  persons  massacred,  cap- 
tured, or  driven  from  their  homes,  many  of  them  dying  oH  the 
way. 

Men  of  the  North  were  pressing  toward  the  South,  to  fight  for 
the  Union  ;  and  here,  it  seemed,  there  were  none  left  to  contend 
with  the  savage  foe.  A  number  of  volunteers  delayed  their  de- 
parture for  the  more  distant 
battle-fields,  and,  finally, 
with  a  force  of  fifteen  hun- 
dred men.  General  Sibley 
marched  against  the  mur- 
dering Dakotas.  But  not 
for  five  months  was  any  fav- 
orable result  obtained.  A 
number  of  the  Sioux  were 
captured,  thirty -eight  of 
them  hanged,  but  Little 
Crow  remained  at  liberty. 
In  July,  1863,  a  gentleman 
driving  along  a  country 
road  heard  a  rustling  in  the 
bushes,  and,  raising  his  rifle, 
fired.  An  Indian  fell  dead 
by  the  roadside — it  was  the 
Sioux  chief  himself.  The 
war  was  ended. 

The  tribe  was  then  removed  to  a  new  reservation,  the  famous 
Black  Hills.  We  have  already  seen  what  a  price  has  been  paid 
by  the  whites  to  regain  this  region,  then  so  solemnly  ceded  to 
the  Sioux. 

THE  FATE  OF  COL.  FETTERMAN  AND  HIS  MEN. 

Another  portion  of  this  tribe  had  been  placed  on  a  reserva- 
tion in  the  southern  part  of  Montana.  In  1866  the  Government 
decided  to  open  a  road  through  this  territory,  and,  in  order  to  do 
this,  established  three  posts.  Of  these,  Port  Philip  Kearney 
was  the  first  to  be  built  and  the  most  important,  being  under  the 
direct  superintendence  of  Col.  Carrington,  the  officer  in  charge 
of  all.  This  project  was.  of  course,  distasteful  to  the  Sioux,  who 


PORT  PHIL.   KEARNEY  MASSACRE. 


at  once  began  their  assaults  upon  the  troops.  Every  small  body 
sent  out  was  attacked,  and  yet  there  were  so  few  men  under 
Col.  Carrington's  command  that  largo  details  were  impossible. 
On  the  21st  of  Decen\ber,  however,  a  force  of  ninety  men  was 
sent  out  for  wood,  to  complete  the  buildings  necessary  at  the 
post.  They  had  not  been  gone  long  before  firing"  was  heard; 
the  Indians  were  attacking  the  wagons.  From  the  fort  the  sen- 
tinels saw  that  the  train  had  been  corraled,  and  that  the  men 
were  endeavoring  to  defend  themselves.  They  would,  of  course, 
be  far  outnumbered— even  now  the  Indians  came  in  swarms,  and 
who  could  tell  how  many  were  waiting  in  the  valleys  beyond  the 
surrounding  hills?  Reinforcements  must  be  sent,  and  Col.  Car- 
rington  detailed  seventy-six  men  to  go  to  the  rescue.  Lieut. 
Col.  Fetterman  claimed  the  privilege  of  leading  them;  Capt. 
Brown,  who  had  been  ordered  to  Laramie,  accompanied  them, 
having  determined  to  take  one  more  scalp  before  he  left.  Both 
of  these  officers  were  impetuoas  and  daring,  and  frequently  re- 
quired the  restraining  influence  of  their  superior.  It  was,  then, 
wkh  special  emphasis  that  Col.  Carrington  gave  the  order  not 
to  pursue  beyond  Lodge  TinL  Eidge  on  any  account.  A  little 
before  noon  the  relief  party  set  out,  intending  not  to  make  di- 
rectly for  the  train,  but  by  a  little  circuit  to  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  the  attacking  Indian^. 

Marching  north,  the  creek  was  crossed,  and  the  command  soon 
out  of  sight  from  the  fort  until  they  reached  the  higher  ground 
on  the  banks.  A  number  of  Indians  were  plainly  visible  on  the 
slopes  of  Lodge  Trail  Eidge,  just  out  of  rifle-range  of  Fetter- 
man's  party.  The  wagoners,  fighting  determinedly,  but  know- 
ing nothing  of  the  reinforcements,  were  surprised,  to  find  the 
assaults  growing  less  vigorous ;  many  of  the  Indians  were  drawn 
off  to  attack  the  relief,  trusting  to  return  to  the  wagons  when 
this  should  have  been  destroyed. 

Before  Fetterman  and  his  men,  like  the  will-o'-the-wisp  before 
the  benighted  traveler,  went  the  handful  of  Indians.  At  last  the 
savages  were  just  bej^bnd  the  summit  of  Lodge  Trail  Eidge,  and 
the  soldiers  pressed  on.  There  were  evidently  so  few  savages 
in  this  party  that  Col.  Fetterman  thought  himself  justified  in  dis- 
obeying orders;  and  his  ardor  in  the  pursuit  was  at  least  equal- 
ed by  Capt.  Brown's.  Entering  upon  the  forbidden  ground  be- 
yond the  ridge,  they  found  the  Indians  were  more  numerous 
than  they  thought,  and  correspondingly  venturesome.  Hastily 


444 


^MODERN  IMDIAXS  ±'1U11TEK»  AWU  WARST, 


forming  at  the  summit  of  the  elevation  nearly  due  north  of 
Lodge  Trail  Eidge,  they  prepared  for  defense. 

Now  at  the  fort  was  heard  the  rattle  of  rapid  firing,  as  the 
Sioux  charged  in  hundreds  at  the  little  handful  of  white  men, 
there  on  the  hilltoD.  The  r»,ase  was  hoiieless^  for  their  ammuni- 
tion began  to  run  low.  Still,  from  beyond  the  hills  new  forces 
of  the  enemy  appeared  until  there  were  nearly  two  thousand 
warriors  in  the  field.  Few  of  the  Indians  used  their  firearms; 
sure  of  their  prey,  they  preferred  the  pleasure  of  cleaving  or 


A  DAKOTA  CmEF. 


stabbing ;  and  sheltered  by  their  ponies,  few  of  them  were 
injured.  Seeing  the  hopelessness  of  their  condition,  the  whites 
made  an  effort  to  retreat.  But  six  or  seven  of  the  moun- 
taineers and  old  soldiers  knew  how  useless  would  be  the  effort, 
and  manfully  stood  their  ground.  They  fell,  and  the  savages 
charged  upon  the  main  body.  It  was  clear  to  all  the  few  who 
remained  that  there  was  no  hope.  Col.  Fetterman  and  Capt. 
Brown  had  both  sworn  never  to  be  taken  alive  by  Indians.  Each 
had  now  but  one  load  remaining  :  and  as  their  comrades  fell  be- 


WILLIAM  COMSTOCK*'S  DEATH. 


445 


neath  that  terrible  rain  of  tomahawks,  each  raised  his  revolver, 
placed  it  at  the  temple  of  his  friend,  and  fired.  They  had  kept 
their  oath,  and  had  escaped  torture. 

The  last  man  was  dead,  and  the  cessation  of  the  shots  told  the 
terrible  tale  at  the  fort.  The  entire  force  remaining  there  number- 
ed but  little  more  than  a  hundred — barely  two  hundred  when  the 
men  of  the  wagon  train  had  made  good  their  escape.  A  force 
was  immediately  sent  out  to  find  the  remains  of  Petterman's 
party,  in  the  vain  hope  that  some  might  yet  be  alive.  The  story 
was  told,  like  many  another,  only  by  the  position  of  the  bodies; 
while  the  powder  stains  on  the  temples  of  the  two  officers  show- 
ed what  had  been  the  last  office  of  friendship.  Only  four  oth- 
ers had  been  shot,  but  whether  by  themselves  or  the  Indians 
could  not  be  determined. 

Such  was  the  famous  massacre  at  Port  Philip  Kearney;  an 
event  which,  more  than  any  other,  marked  the  year  1866  with 
blood.  The  succeeding  year  was  comparatively  peaceful,  sever^ 
al  months  being  occupied  by  councils  between  U.  S.  Commis- 
missioners  and  the  chiefs  of  various  tribes.  But  in  1868  the  fire 
blazed  forth  fiercely.  We  have  already  outlined  some  of  the 
operations  in  that  year,  the  most  successful  being  Gen.  Custer's 
campaign  against  the  Cheyennes.  It  remains  only  to  note  the 
fate  of  one  man,  known  all  over  the  plains  as  one  of  the  most 
efficient  scouts  and  guides  attached  to  the  service. 

WILLIAM  COMSTOCK's  DEATH. 

In  the  sketch  of  Gen.  Custer,  we  have  frequently  had  occa- 
sion to  mention  William  Comstock,  to  quote  his  quaintly  ex- 
pressed bits  of  wisdom,  and  to  show  what  services  he  rendered 
the  command ;  and  in  another  ylace  we  have  seen  how  narrowly 
he  missed  the  title  of  "  Buffalo  Bill,''  whr.n  competing  with  the 
present  acknowledged  owner  of  that  title  for  the  belt  as  cham- 
pion buffalo  killer.  Wary  and  experienced,  he  was  invaluable 
as  a  scout  and  guide  ;  and  the  safety  of  a  regiment  may  depend 
upon  the  efficiency  of  the  one  ma^  who  acts  in  this  capacity.  His 
pride  was  in  his  thorough  acquaintance  with  his  trade,"  as  he 
frequently  called  the  business  of  Indian  fighting. 

Ef  I  know  anything,  it's  Injuns,"  he  was  wont  to  say,  as  he 
expressed  an  opinion  in  any  case.  Officers  and  men  listened 
with  deference  to  what  they  knew  were  words  of  wisdom,  and 
no  one  thought  of  doubting  the  assertion  quoted  ;  but  the  event 


WILLIAM  COMSTOCK's  DEATH. 


proved  that  he  did  not  know  the  savages  well  enough  to  distrust 
them  always. 

A  band  of  Cheyennes  had  encamped  not  far  from  Big  Spring 
Station,  Kansas,  where  Comstock  happened  to  be  at  the  time. 
Eiding  out  to  their  village  with  a  single  companion,  a  brother 
scout,  they  were  most  hospitably  entertained  by  the  chiefs.  An 
Indian  is  always  ready  to  receive  a  guest,  and  give  him  the  best 
fare  at  his  command.  Comstock  and  his  friend  passed  the  af 
ternoon  very  pleasantly,  and  when  the  August  day  was  drawing 
to  a  close  made  preparations  to  return.  The  chiefs,  with  sincere 
cordiality,  pressed  them  to  stay  the  night;  but  declining  the  in- 
vitation, they  rode  away.  They  had  gone  but  a  short  distance 
when  they  saw  that  they  were  followed  by  ten  or  twelve  young 
warriors  of  the  village  they  Lad  just  left.  Even  this,  suspicious 
as  it  was,  excited  no  alarm,  and  the  braves  rode  up  alongside  the 
scouts  and  exchanged  the  usual  solemn  salutations. 

By  some  cunning  maneuvre,  the  two  white  men  were  separa- 
ted, Comstock  being  a  little  behind  his  companion,  and  both  sur- 
rounded  by  Indians.  Hardly  had  the  warriors  achieved  this 
success  when,  in  answer  to  some  unobserved  signal,  each  party 
attacked  its  chosen  victim.  The  whole  affair  had  been  carefully 
planned  beforehand,  and  each  warrior  knew  just  how  to  attack. 
At  such  close  quarters,  with  such  odds,  the  result  was  almost  in- 
evitable; and  3^et  Comstoek\s  companion,  trusting  to  the  speed 
of  an  excellent  horse,  managed  to  escape  with  but  a  few  wounds. 

His  good  fortune  was  perhaps  due  to  their  greater  wish  for  his 
comrade^s  life.  When  he  saw  their  design,  Comstock  was  at  once 
ready  ;  without  a  thought  of  retreat,  he  tried  to  defend  himself. 
But  they  were  too  man}^.  Closing  around  him,  regardless  of  their 
own  safety,  they  managed  to  disarm  him;  and  although  even 
thus  he  struggled  manfully,  he  was  soon  dispatched.  The  reason 
for  this  murder  is  a  singular  commentary  on  the  stories  in  which 
the  noble  red  man  figures  as  hero.  These  young  braves  had  710 
particular  desire  to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  their  race  upon  thr 
scout  whose  skill  had  often  caused  their  defeat;  nor  did  they 
think  much  of  the  fame  to  be  gained  by  outwitting  this  wary  foe. 
Even  with  these  motives,  it  would  have  been  in  the  eyes  of  white 
men  an  inexcusable  crime;  but  their  purpose  made  it  even 
worse.  The  murdered  man  had  for  some  time  carried  a  beau- 
tiful ivory-handled  revolver,  and  this  the  young  braves  had 
coveted,  taking  this  means  of  ':rettir!fr  possession  of  it. 


THE  MOBOCS. 


But  how  could  this  one  weapon  benefit  the  whole  party  ?  asks 
the  reader.  Easily  enough  managed:  the  Indians  are  ready  to 
gamble  at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances;  and  when  the 
triumphant  party  had  secured  the  prize,  together  with  the  scalp, 
clothes  and  saddle  of  the  scout,  they  proceeded  to  determine  who 
should  be  the  favored  possessor  of  each  article.  * 


GEN.  STURGIS,  THE  FAMOUS  INDIAN  FIGHTER. 


THE  MODees. 

The  Indian  cannot  understand  why  he  cannot  retain  a  reserra- 
tion  once  ceded,  and  naturally  resents  a  forced  change  by  a  se- 
ries of  outrages.  Such  was  the  grievance  of  the  Modocs,  once  a 
nation  numbering  thousands,  but  diminished  by  famine  and  pes- 
tilence to  less  than  four  hundred  souls.  Removed  from  their 
home  on  Lake  Klamath,  to  southern  Oregon,  Capt.  Jack^s  band 
for  some  time  refused  to  go.  The  Klamaths,  notoriously  quar- 
relsome, had  been  placed  on  the  same  reservation,  and  trouble 
soon  began.  After  the  Indian  agents  had  made  many  attempts 
to  settle  the  difficulties,  the  Modocs,  who  declared  that  the  res- 
ervation was  only  a  Klamath  trap  for  them,  departed  to  the  high 
lands  known  as  the  lava  beds,  beyond  the  California  line. 

The  Government  made  several  ineffectual  efforts  to  compel 


450  THE  MODOC  WAR. 

these  Indians  to  return  to  their  reservation,  but  they  persistent- 
ly rejected  all  peaceful  overtures.  Commissioners  had  been  ap- 
pointed when  they  first  left  Oregon,  but  had  resigned  when  they 
found  all  eiforts  unavailing ;  and  in  March,  1873,  a  new  commis- 
sion was  formed,  composed  of  Gen.  E.  R.  S.  Canby,  Rev.  Dr.  E. 
ThoTnas,  a  leading  Methodist  divine  of  California,  Messrs.  Mea- 
cham,  Rosborough  and  Dyer.  Trusting  in  a  system  of  gentle 
compulsion,  with  a  proper  display  of  the  force  that  could  be  used 
f  if  n  ecessary,  the  commissioners  held  several  parleys  with  the  In- 
dians, who  were  insolent  and 
aggressive.  At  one  of  these 
interviews  Captain  Jack  and 
his  men  appeared  with  fresh 
white  scalps  at  their  belts,  but 
gradually  becoming  more  shy 
and  cautious,  refused  to  come 
into  camp  at  all. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the 
tenth  of  April  that  Bogus 
Charley  came  into  camp  with 
several  others,  all  of  whom 
were  liberally  treated,  receiv- 
ing  presents  of  clothing  and 
provisions.  By  these  Indians 
the  commissioners  sent  a  message  to  the  chief,  inviting  him 
to  a  talk  at  a  designated  spot  about  half  a  mile  outside  of 
the  picket  lines.  Boston  Charley  came  in  the  next  morning,  say- 
ing that  Captain  Jack,  with  five  of  his  followers,  would  meet 
them  there.  Between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock  the  commissioners, 
accompanied  by  the  interpreter  and  his  squaw,  and  Boston  Char- 
ley and  Bogus  Charley,  went  out  to  the  spot  designated,  and 
there  met  the  six  Modocs.  Sitting  down  in  a  sort  of  a  broken 
circle,  the  commissioners  explained^what  they  wished  the  Mo- 
docs to  do,  and  what  would  be  the  advantages  of  such  a  course 
of  action.  Captain  Jack  answered  evasively  in  an  apparently 
serious  strain  that  seems  to  have  blinded  the  white  men.  When 
he  had  finished,  he  stepped  back,  and  Schonchin  began  to  talk. 

Imagine  the  scene :  a  wide  valley,  nearly  level,  a  kind  of  con- 
gealed sea,  where  the  black  and  ragged  crested  waves  were  of 
lava;  here  and  there,  in  the  small  hollows  a  little  ash-like  soil 
supported  a  tangled  growth  of  sage-bush  ;  bounded  by  dark  and 


GEN.  E,  R.  S.  CANBY. 


niB  MODOC  WAR. 


452 


THE  MODOC  WAh. 


frowning  walls  of  lava-like  roc"  more  than  a  thousand  feet  high} 
here  was  the  little  circle,  nearly  all  seated,  one  only  standing  by 
his  horse  ;  such  was  the  picture  as  Schonchin  spoke.  Suddenly, 
in  the  pauses  of  his  speech,  Mr.  Dyer,  who  stood  by  his  horse, 
heard  a  cap  snap  ;  turning  quickly  arouftd,  he  saw  Captain  Jack 
with  his  pistol  pointed  at  Gen.  Canby.  It  was  the  signal  for 
the  massacre.  Aiming  again  at  the  same  victim,  the  chief  fired, 
and  the  noble  old  man  fell,  while  Dr.  Thomas  was  killed  at  al- 
most the  same  instant.  Mr.  Dyer'turned  as  soon  as  he  heard  the 
cap  miss,  and  was  pursued  by  Hooker  Jim  ;  but  the  two  shots 
of  the  latter  were  without  effect,  and  he  retreated  when  the  white 
man  drew  his  derringer.  Mr.  Meacham  escaped,  as  well  as  the 
interpreter  and  his  squaw. 

The  bugle  sounded  to  arms,  and  the  troops  hastily  advanced. 
On  they  dashed  past  the  body  of  Dr.  Thomas,  and  that  of  their 
beloved  and  respected  commander,  eager  to  avenge  his  death; 
but  the  enemy  had  escaped  into  the  almost  impregnable  fastness- 
es that  towered  above  them,  and  they  had  to  return  to  the  camp 
without  accomplishing  their  desires. 

The  Canby  massacre  was  speedily  known  all  over  the  country, 
and  created  the  most  intense  excitement  and  resentment  against 
its  perpetrators.  Gen.  Schofield  was  sent  against  the  Modocs 
and  they  were  attacked  in  the  lava-beds  by  Gen.  Gillem  and  Col. 
Mason.  This  engagement  took  place  on  the  15th ;  and  all  day 
long  both  the  troops  and  the  Indians  fought  gallantly  and  des- 
perately, for  revenge  or  for  life'.  The  Modocs,  driven  to  their 
camp  at  nightfall,  were  not  unwilling  to  renew  the  conflict  the 
next  day.  Finally  they  were  cut  off  from  the  water,  their  camp 
was  broken  up  by  shelling,  and  it  was  only  under  cover  of  night 
that  they  were  able  to  escape. 

At  last  the  Modocs  had  been  driven  twenty  miles  from  their 
original  stronghold ;  and  although  they  fought  with  desperate 
courage,  the  contest  was  a  hopeless  one.  Entrenched  in  one  of 
the  caves  which  had  probably  once  been  a  vent  for  the  liquid  mass 
now  forming  a  rocky  sea  over  so  great  an  extent  of  count:fy^ 
Captain  Jack,  with  less  than  fifty  warriors,  had  held  six  hundred 
soldiers  at  bay ;  but  he  was  powerless  to  cope  with  his  own  fol- 
lowers, when  interest  or  fear  bade  them  desert  to  the  enemy. 
Half  of  his  warriors  had  surrendered  themselves,  and  his  spirf 
was  broken.  At  last  a  Modoc,  with  a  white  flag,  met  a  scouting 
party  with  the  intelligence  that  Captain  Jack  wanted  to  surren- 


454 


THE  MODOC  WAR, 


der,  and  wLen  it  was  seen  that  he  was  well  received,  the  chief 
himself  came  forward  with  extended  hand. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  summer  afternoon  as  the  party  ap- 
proached camp  with  their  prisoner,  and  all  but  the  necessary- 
guards  were  enjoying  a  siesta.    But  as  the  soldiers  on  duty  re= 


CAPTAIN  JACK. 

cogniived  the  Indian  captive  who  was  approaching,  and  passed  the 
infornjation  each  to  the  other,  the  drowsy  quiet  vanished  as  if 
by  magic.  "Wild  cheers  from  the  troops  greeted  the  murderer  of 
tbeir  teloved  old  commander,  as  he  entered  the  camp  and  stood 
before  them,  every  inch  a  chief.  Proud,  disdainful,  indiiferent  to 
taunt  and  courtesy  alike,  he  maintained  a  dogged  silence,  even 
when  ironed;  only  a  subordinate  protested  against  this  insult. 


456 


GENERAL  CHOOK. 


But  when  it  was  once  decided  what  should  be  done  with  th© 
iMouocs,  and  a  civil  trial  preferred  to  a  court-martial,  or  exter- 
mination without  trial,  as  some  extremists  urged,  Captain 
Jack's  silence  was  broken.  Condemned  to  death,  he  said  that 
he  had  not  wanted  to  fight  the  whites,  but  had  been  driven  to  it 
by  his  warriors;  but  the  law  takes  cognizance  of  actions,  not  of 
wishes,  and  he,  with  those  of  his  followers  who  had  participated 
in  the  massacre,  were  sentenced  and  hanged.  Probably  he  would 
have  remained  silent  had  any  other  mode  of  death  been  chosen; 
but  this,  to  the  Indian,  is  the  most  horrible  of  all.  Believing 
that  the  soul  escapes  through  the  open  mouth  at  the  moment  of 
death,  strangulation,  according  to  his  idea,  prevents  this,  and 
the  unhappy  spirit,  condemned  to  hover  around  the  decaying 
body,  is  kept  forever  from  the  happy  hunting  grounds. 

So  we  take  leave  of  the  Modocs,  that  once,  according  to  the 
boast  of  a  chief,  were  as  the  sands  of  the  sea  in  number  and  now 
are  a  miserable  remnant  of  little  more  than  two  hundred  souls. 

Comparative  peace  reigned  for  a  space  of  about  two  years. 
Although  there  was  no  lack  of  outrages  committed  during  this 
time,  yet  they  did  not  result  in  war  with  any  one  tribe.  But 
when  the  discovery  of  gold  in  the  Black  Hills  country  drew  ad- 
venturei^s  thither,  the  Sioux  were  ready  to  fight  for  the  land 
which  had  bedh  so  solemnly  ceded  to  them.  The  information 
that  soldiers  were  marching  against  them,  from  both  north  and 
south  only  enraged  them  the  more,  and  it  is  calculated  that  the 
first  half  of  the  year  1876  saw  the  murder  of  a  hundred  miners. 
Certain  it  is  that  the  latter  part  of  that  half-year  saw  a  massacre  «^ 
unapproached  since  the  days  of  Braddock  ;  but  no  Washington 
rode  unharmed  among  the  showers  of  bullets,  when  Custer  and 
his  command  were  slaughtered.  We  have  already  detailed  the 
earlier  part  of  this  double  expedition,  but  the  battle  on  the  Eose- 
bud  is  so  characteristic  of  Indian  warfare  that  it  deserves  fur- 
ther description. 

On  the  principle  that  "  it  takes  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief,'^  many 
of  our  best  Indian  fighters  make  it  a  rule  to  employ  friendly  red- 
skins in  every  campaign  ;  especially  is  this  true  of  the  G-ray  Fox, 
as  the  savages  have  dubbed  Gen.  Crook,  naming  him  from  the 
color  of  his  usual  apparel  and  his  success  in  foiling  their  most 
cunningly  laid  plans.  In  this  battle,  his  right  wing  consisted  of 
these  dusky  allies  and  two  companies  of  infantry,  while  his  left 
was  composed  entirely  df  cavalry.    Slowly  advancing,  the  whole 


..h  MODOO  WAH, 


457 


BOSTON  CHARLEY,  SHACK  NASTT  JIM. 


MODOOS. 


THE  BATTLE  ON  THE  ROSEBUD. 


lint  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  furious  fighting.  The  cavalry 
charged  upon  the  dusky  mass,  with  about  the  effect  of  a  descent 
upon  so  many  files;  the  army  of  Indians  scattered,  resolving 
itself  into  a  number  of  individual  savages,  but  only  to  reu- 
nite and  prepare  to  receive,  in  an  equally  strong  position,  anoth- 


GEN.  C.  H.  CROOK. 

er  charge.  So  the  cavalry  was  led  onward,  until  the  two  wings 
were  completely  disunited.  The  left  was  recalled  to  the  origin' 
nal  position,  but  it  was  more  difficult  to  retrace  their  steps  than 
it  had  been  to  advance.  Charging  onward,  they  had  found  the 
enemy  melt  away  before  them;  retreating,  Indians  poured  from 
every  ravine  and  hill.  Contending  with  the  dusky  foe  on  flank 
and  rear  as  well  as  in  front,  there  was  a  moment  of  desperate 
hand-to-hand  fighting — sabres  and  pistols,  lances  and  knives, — 
and  they  had  hewn  a  path  back  to  the  standard  of  the  commander. 


THE  BATTLE  OJ"  THE  ROSEBtfD.  459 


it  was  an  eventtul  year  to  the  Indian  fighters.  All  throirgh  the 
summer  and  fall  we  hear  of  marches  and  nghts;  of  the  Indians 
pursued  so  closely  and  so  secretly  that  on  one  occasion  at  least 
the  soldiers  found  the  live  embers  of  a  fire,  a  bloody  hatchet,  and 
parts  of  a  newly  killed  antelope  carcass  in  a  new  brush  tepee,  on 
the  line  of  march.  As  they  advanced  to  the  northward,  their 
jourse  became  plainer  to  the  Indian,  whose  only  learning  is  the 
voodcraft  which  enables  him  tc  baffle  or  pursue  his  enemies;  and 
Lhe  horizon,  here  and  there,  grew  dark  with  the  smoke  of  signal 
fires.  Gen.  Crook  expected  to  receive  reinforcements  of  Crow 
Indians  early  in  June,  but  as  they  did  not  join  him  at  the  time 
when  they  were  ordered  to  do  so,  he  sent  two  companies  of  in- 
fantry forward  to  Powder  Eiver,  a  day  in  advance  of  the  main 
column,  to  meet  them,  in  order  to  insure  safety  from  the  hostiles. 
But  telegraphic  communication  with  the  Crow  agency  '  i  ieen 
broken,  and  they  had  never  received  his  orders.  It  was  then 
without  the  expected  assistance  that  he  must  advance  into  a  coun- 
try where  every  foot  of  ground  could  have  told  a  story  of  some 
inhuman  massacre  or  desperate  defense. 

The  country  through  which  they  were  now  marching  had  been 
the  scene,  in  1866,  of  a  massacre  of  ninety  men,  near  Fort  Phil 
Kearney;  in  1867,  of  a  desperate  fight  of  six  Montanians  near 
by  the  same  spot,  an  encounter  which  not  one  of  the  white  men 
survived  ;  Crazy  Woman's  Fork  had  seen,  in  1868,  a  furious  at- 
tack upon  a  party  of  twelve  men,  who  heroically  defended  the 
women  and  children,  and  at  last  drove  off  the  assailants.  Three  * 
times  had  this  been  the  objective  point  in  a  military  invasion  of 
the  Indian  country ;  in  1865,  Gen.  Connor  had,  by  desperate 
fighting,  destroyed  a  village  of  hostile  Cheyennes  and  Arapa- 
hoes ;  in  1866,  Gen.  Carrington  had  left  the  Indians  masters  of 
the  situation;  and  early  in  1876,  Gen.  Crook  him?  If  had  fallen 
back  temporarily. 

Many  of  the  chiefs  were  qui^^e  willing  to  sell  the  Black  Hills 
on  any  terms  that  the  governm  3nt  might  ofPer ;  accui  amg  to  their 
assertions,  the  truth  of  which  was  afterward  confirmed  by  other 
evidence,  there  were  but  few  Sioux  absent  from  the  reservation^ 
the  bulk  of  Sitting  Bull's  forces  being  Cheyennes,  with  a  sprink- 
ling^of  other  tribes.  But  Sitting  Bull  swore  that  he  would  fight 
for  the  Black  Hills  as  long  as  the  question  was  unsettled^  or  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

In  July,  Gen.  Merritt  was  ordered  to  join  Crook,  but  was  de- 


OENEKAL  CROUK. 


layed  somewhat  by  the  band  of  eight  hundred  Cheyennes,  whom 
he  drove  back  to  their  agency.  Doubtless  this  had  a  most  ex- 
cellent effect  upon  all  the  Indians  who  learned  of  it,  preventing 
them  from  leaving  the  reservation.  Another  reinforcement  of 
six  companies  of  the  Fifth  Infantry  was  ordered  at  the  same 
time,  the  commander  being  Gen.  Miles.  This  officer,  who  had 
served  through  the  Civil  War,  and  had  then  earned  himself  an 
honorable  name,  had  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  best  In- 
dian fighters  on  the  border.  Doubtless  the  news  of  this  last 
force  was  doubly  welcome  to  Gen.  Crook,  who  preferred  infantry 
to  cavalry,  since  the  latter  are  at  home  and  ready  to  fight  under 
all  circumstances;  the  cavalry,  dismounted,  being  compelled  to 
fight  under  unusual  conditions. 

But  even  before  the  arrival  of  these  reinforcements,  while  the 
Indians  were  three  to  one,  Gen.  Crook  had  no  doubt  of  his  ability 
to  whip  Jhem.  His  delay  came  from  his  fear  that  the  victory 
would  be  barren  of  results  if  only  a  small  force  were  engaged, 
while  the  assistance  of  the  promised  troops  would  enable  him  to 
end  the  campaign  with  one  crushing  blow. 

The  aim  of  both  Terry  and  Crook  had  been  to  effect  a  junction, 
and  on  Aug.  8th,  the  former  marched  up  the  Eosebud  for  tha^ 
purpose.  The  heat  was  intense,  and  the  lack  of  water,  so  com* 
mon  in  that  region,  increased  greatly  the  sufferings  of  men  and 
horses.  There  was  but  little  grass,  for  ever  since  the  battle  oii 
the  Little  Big  Horn  the  Indians  had  bee-n  burning  the  vegetation 
which  might  afford  sustenance  to  the  enemy's  horses ;  and  an  oc 
casional  oasis  in  this  desert,  where  the  grass,  protected  bysligh'^ 
shade,  had  been  too  green  to  burn,  was  hailed  with  joy.  As  they 
journeyed  on,  a  Sioux  squaw  brought  intelligence  of  a  terrible 
fight  between  Crook  and  the  Sioux,  in  which  the  latter  had  been 
well-nigh  annihilated.  Scarcely  daring  to  believe  this  welcome 
news,  they  pushed  onward,  and  found,  on  reaching  his  c  imp  on 
the  10th,  that  it  was  true.  The  combined  force,  according  o  Gen, 
Sheridan's  official  despatches,  amounted  to  less  than  twc  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  men;  the  Indians  could  muster  from  eight 
to  ten  thousand  warriors. 

Having  retired  to  Fort  Fetterman  to  wait  for  the  expected  re* 
inforcements,  it  was  about  the  middle  of  November  when  Gen, 
Crook  left  that  point  at  the  head  of  the  largest  force  that  had 
been  sent  against  the  Indians  for  many  years.  Eleven  companies 
of  cavalry,  the  same  number  of  infantry,  four  of  artillery,  and  a 


GENERAIi  CROOK. 


m 


body  of  three  nundred  and  fifty  Indians  commandea  by  white  of- 
ficers,  formed  his  army.  Intending  to  marcn  against  Crazy 
Horse,  he  learned  that  that  wily  Indian  chief  nad  so  placed  his 
camp  thai  a  long  and  roundabout  march  would  be  required  to 
surprise  it,  and  it  was  determined  to  attack  the  OheyenneS;  vvho 
were  somewhere  near,  in  the  foot-hills.  The  Indian  a^'ies  for 
some  time  searched  for  the  exact  locality,  and  were  at  iast  re' 


THE  INDIAK  CAMP. 


warded  by  finding  the  village  without  being  discovered.  l^ov.\ 
2STdy  Gen.  Mackenzie,  with  seven  hundred  picked  cavalry  and 
the  whole  body  of  friendly  Indians,  marched  toward  the  Chey- 
'enne  camp,  halting  at  striking  distance  the  next  day  to  wait  for 
darkness  to  conceal  his  farther  advance.  When  night  fell,  the 
inarch  was  resumed,  and  before  daylight  he  reached  a  point  from 
which  the  men  could  distinctly  hear  the  clamor  made  by  the 
voices  and  tom-toms  of  the  Ift^aws^^they  performed  the  scalp- 


4G4 


GENERA^  CROOK. 


dance  in  honor  of  a  reeent  successful  attack  upon  a  small  party 
of  Crows. 

The  situation  of  the  troops  was  pitiable  in  the  extreme.  In 
the  bottom  of  a  dark  and  narrow  gorge,  around  them  rose  the 
rocky  sides  to  a  height  of  a  thousand  feet;  the  snow  lay  piled  in 
drifts  from  two  to  four  feet  deep,  and  the  cold  was  intense,  yet 
no  fire  could  be  built,  and  perfect  silence  must  be  maintained- 
The  horses  stood  with  heads  bowed  down,  tired  out  with  the 
long  march ;  the  men  shuffled  their  feet  quietly,  and  now  and 
then  changed  their  positions,  just  moving  enough  to  keep  from 
freezing.  As  the  faint  gray  streaks  in  the  east  proclaimed  the 
approach  of  morning,  the  noises  in  the  Indian  camp  died  gradu- 
ally away;  and  when  all  was  still,  the  half-frozen  troops  climbed 
with  stiffened  limbs  into  their  saddles,  and  moved  forward  to  the 
•attack. 

Moving  silently  down  the  long  canon  towards  th-e  village, 
which  lay  stretched  out  for  three  miles  along  the  banks  of  the 
frozen  stream,  the  Indian  allies  rode  forward,  and  with  all  the 
whoops  and  yells  which  charaQterize  their  conflicts,  fell  upon 
one  end  of  the  village.  Many  of  the  Cheyennes,  seizing  their 
arms,  rushed  to  cover  among  the  rocks  inaccessible  to  the  white 
men;  some  were  killed  before  they  had  gained  this  refuge,  while 
others  stayed  behind  to  defend  their  lodges.  The  cavalry  were 
soon  in  the  midst  of  the  fight.  Dull  Knife,  the  Cheyenne  chief, 
sprang  to  his  arms,  and  called  upon  his  warriors  to  repulse  the 
soldiers.  But  though  the  summons  was  echoed  by  a  rapid  and 
galling  fire  from  those  savages  still  in  the  village,  nothing  could 
withstand  the  onset  of  the  heavy  cavalry;  and  having  seen  his 
youngest  and  favorite  son  fall  at  his  very  feet.  Dull  Knife  joinea 
his  flying  band,  and  in  a  short  time  the  village,  entirely  deserted 
by  its  inhabitants,  was  in  the  possession  of  the  troops. 

From  their  rocky  refuge  the  Cheyennes  poured  an  incessant 
fire.  'No  power  from  below  could  dislodge  the  determined  fight- 
ers from  their  position,  and  it  soon  became  apparent  that  the  at- 
tacking force  was  powerless  against  less  than  half  its  numbers. 
Burning  the  village,  and  disposing  his  men  'SO  as  to  secure  as 
much  protection  as  possible  from  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  Gen 
Mackenzie  despatched  an  Indian  to  ask  Gen.  Crook  for  reinforce- 
ments. Not  until  ten  A.  M.  the  next  day  did  this  runner  reach 
the  main  camp,  when  the  infantry  was  immediately  sent  to  the 
relief  of  the  cavalry.    There  was  no  dplay  ;  every  man  whs  anT 


a£N^EAL  MILES. 


465 


ions  to  get  where  he  could  help  his  comrades,  and  though  swear- 
ing  like  our  army  in  Flanders  as  they  floundered  on  through 
the  deep  snow-drifts,  they  only  halted  for  a  few  hours  at  three 
A.  M.,  when  the  guide  lost  the  trail ;  proceeding  onward  at  dawn 
and  meeting  some  of  Mackenzie's  advance  guards  a  little  after 
sunrise. 

They  found  that  their  coming  would  afford  no  assistance,  for 
the  enemy  had  been  obliged  by  the  cold  to  leave  their  lofty  posts 
and  retreat  to  a  position  where  they  could  build  fires  and  pre- 
pare food.  The  Indians,  to  whom  clothes  are  an  adornment 
rather  than  a  necessity,  habitually  sleep  naked  when  in  camp 
and  unsuspicious  of  danger ;  those  of  the  plains,  whatever  may  be 
said  of  their  hardy  vigor,  are  peculiarly  susceptible  to  cold ;  so 
that  the  Cheyennes,  driven  by  an  enemy  with  which  human  nature 
could  not  contend,  collected  their  herds  of  ponies  during  the 
night  and  retreated.  Even  then  Mackenzie's  plans  were  frustrated, 
for  a  strong  and  determined  rear-guard  drove  back  the  pursuers 
set  upon  their  track  as  soon  as  their  departure  was  discovered. 
With  no  food  but  the  flesh  of  their  ponies,  no  clothing  but  the 
green  hides  of  the  same  faithful  animals,  they  made  their  way 
with  almost  incredible  diflicalty  across  the  bleak  snow-clad  sum- 
mits of  the  Big  Horn  Mountains  to  the  camp  of  Crazy  Horse. 
From  their  old  allies  and  friends,  the  Sioux,  to  whom  they  had 
never  yet  refused  assistance,  from  whom  they  had  never  yet  fail- 
ed to  obtain  it,  the  half-frozen  and  famishing  Cheyennes  might 
well  hope  to  receive  food,  shelter  and  protection.  But  self-pre- 
servation is  the  first  instinct  of  our  natures,  and  the  Sioux  chief 
felt  the  support  of  fifteen  hundred  people  too  great  a  tax  upon  his 
own  band;  and  he  received  them  so  coldly,  and  supplied  their 
wants  with  such  a  niggardly  hand,  that  they  soon  left  the  camp. 
Unable  to  contend  against  such  difiiculties,  no  alternative  was 
left  them,  and  early  in  1877  they  surrendered  themselves. 

Justice  soon  overtook  the  Sioux  who  had  denied  food  and  shel- 
ter to  their  suffering  allies,  in  the  shape  of  an  expedition  against 
them  headed  by  Gen.  Miles.  Setting  out  Dec.  27th,  with  a  force 
of  seven  companies  of  infantry,  numbering  three  hundred  fight- 
ing men,  they  experienced  heavy  snow,  intense  cold,  and  severe 
windstorms.  The  influence  of  the  latter  upon  the  temperature 
can  hardly  be  estimated  by  those  who  know  but  little  of  the 
plains ;  they  cut  through  and  through  with  the  keenest  and  most 
piercing  cold.    Slowly  they  prnrvo^-^,>d.  their  progress  retarded 


GENERAL  MILES. 


by  hardships  which  cannot  be  exaggerated,  towards  the  Wolf 
Mountains,  sixty  miles  away.  At  last  they  were  rewarded  by 
finding  Indian  sign,  and  pushing  on,  struck  a  large  force  of  In- 
dians  on  the  7th.  Defeating  these,  they  marched  onward,  en- 
countering a  body  of  a  thousand  warriors  on  the  8th.  Fully 
armed,  and  well  supplied  with  ammunition,  the  redskins  were 
confident  of  victory.  The  ground  was  rough  and  broken,  so  that 
tio  cavalry  was  needed;  inde^.d,  if  they  had  had  such  a  force,  it^ 
freuld  have  been  difficult  to  use. 


GENERAL  WESLEY  MERRITT, 


gain  and  again  they  charged  upon  the  troops,  but  were  as  otten 
pulsed.  For  five  hours  the  fight  continued,  though  during  the 
greater  part  of  this  time  a  blinding  snowstorm  almost  hid  them 
from  each  other.  The  Indians  at  last  retreated,  fighting  as  they 
went,  and  w«3re  closely  pursued  as  far  as  supplies  permitted. 
The  loss  on  the  part  of  the  troops  was  small ;  that  of  the  Indians 
could  not  be  absolutely  determined.  Many  squaws  and  children 
were  taken  prisoners,  to  whom  the  kindness  with  which  their 
captors  treated  them  seemed  very  extraordinary.   Used  to  the 


CHIEF  JOSEPH   AND  THE  NEZ  PERCES 


mhumanity  of  their  own  treatment  of  captives,  it  was  quite  puz* 
Bling  to  them. 

The  strength  of  the  hostiles  was  practically  broken;  the  Chey- 
ennes  had  come  in  and  surrendered  themselves.  Sitting  Bull, 
with  his  conglomerate  force,  had  betaken  himself  into  Canada, 
and  Crazy  Horse  and  his  band  of  Sioux  had  been  defeated  by 
this  last  fight  with  Gen.  Miles.  A  band  of  the  ISTez  Perces  Indians 
%re  the  dusky  heroes  of  the  next  campaign,  which  was  conducted 

by  Gen.  Howard.  The  so-called 
Chief  Joseph,  of  the  Nez  Perces, 
was  really  a  scalawag  with  some 
followers,  the  main  body  of  the 
tribe  keeping  firmly  to  the  treaty 
made  with  the  United  States 
in  1855. 

Leaving  their  reservation  in 
the  summer  of  1877,  these  non- 
treaty  Indians,  as  they  ^  -^re 
called,  refused  to  return^  and  it 
was  necessary  to  employ  force. 
Gen.  Gibbon  accordingly  march- 
ed against  them,  and  a  severe  en- 
GEN.  o.  o.  HOWARD.  gagcmcnt  ensued  when  the  two 

forces  met,  Aug.  9th,  which  resulted  in  a  heavy  loss  to  the  troops. 
Encouraged  by  this  success,  Chief  Joseph  and  his  band  started 
eastward  to  the  buffalo  country,  but  were  met  by  Gen.  Sturgis, 
with  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  All  day  long  they  fought,  and  the 
Indians,  badly  cut  up,  retreated,  followed  by  Gen.  Sturgis,  who 
had  now  been  reinforced  by  Gen.  Howard.  The  last  day  of 
September  Gen.  Miles  made  a  sudden  attack  upon  the  enemy, 
whose  camp  was  on  the  level  ground  of  the  river  bottom.  The 
Indians  fled  to  the  crests  of  the  surrounding  hills,  and  ther  ce  re- 
pulsed the  charges  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  A  row  of  deavl  hor- 
ses marked  the  line  of  attack,  and  nearly  all  the  officers  were 
killed  or  disabled.  Finally  the  Indians  took  to  the  pits  and  ra- 
vines, whence  it  was  almost  impossible  to  dislodge  them. 

The  arrival  of  Gen.  Howard,  Oct.  4th,  was  followed,  the  next 
day,  by  the  surrender  of  Joseph  and  his  band. 

^^I  am  tired  of  fighting,^'  said  he  ;  our  chiefs  are  killed;  the 
old  men  are  all  dead;  it  is  the  young  men  who  say  yes  or  no. 
He  who  led  on  the  young  men  iss  d^  d.    It  is  cold,  a"d  we  have 


THE  UTES. 


no  blankets ;  the  little  children  are  freezing  to  death.  I  am  tired ; 
my  heart  is  sick  and  sad.  From  where  the  sun  now  stands  I  will 
fight  no  more  forever.^' 

The  outbreaks  of  the  succeeding  years  are  mainly  due  to  the  bad 
faith  of  the  Indian  agents.  The  Utes,  particularly,  hftd  always 
been  notably  peaceable,  submif  ,to  many  indignities  rather 
than  go  to  war  with  the  whites.  ne  inveterate  enemies  of  the 
Sioux,  it  was  their  earnest  desire  to  "travel  the  white  man's 
road/'  as  the  Indian  expresses  it.    In  July  they  set  fire  to  the 


CAPT.  D.  L.  PAYNE. 

timber  near  their  reservation  in  order  to  concentrate  game.  This 
resulted  in  the  destruction  of  considerable  property,  and  the 
guilty  ones  were  ordered  to  be  arrested.  Provoked  by  many 
previous  indignities,  they  were  not  disposed  to  submit  to  this 
reasonable  requirement,  and  it  became  necessary  to  send  for 
troops. 

Major  Thornburgh  was  accordingly  despatched  with  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  men,  and  followed  the  enemy  into  the  sandhills. 
Here  the  Utes,  brought  to  bay,  ambuscaded,  but  th^  ruse  was 
fortanately  discovered  bv  the  troops,  and  they  were  obli^jed  t»J> 
^i^^^ge  their  tactics.    Jbasi 'ng  ciown  upon  the  main  force,  they 


THE  tfTES, 


470 


WAR  CLOUDS. 


reached  the  end  of  the  train,  and  a  moment  held  their  own,  but 
were  more  than  once  repulsed.  The  gallant  commanding  officer 
led  a  counter  charge  against  them,  but  fell  at  the  head  of  his  men. 
Securing  his  body,  they  retreated  and  intrenched  themselves  be- 
hind the  wagons  and  dead  horses.  Again  and  again  the  Indians 
charged  upon  them,  only  ceasing  at  night,  and  recommenced  early 
the  next  morning.  The  death  of  Major  Thornburgh  left  Capt, 
Payne  in  command,  and  encouraged  by  him  the  troops  held  out 
bravely,  until  the  sixth  day  came.  Worn  out  by  the  constant 
vigilance  required  as  well  as  by  the  intense  anxiety  with  which 
their  situation  most  naturally  filled  them,  with  what  delight  they 
must  have  seen  yonder  dark  spot  on  the  horizon  grow  into  aline, 
the  line  into  a  moving  mass,  the  indistinct  outlines  of  which  grad- 
ually brighten  into  the  semblance  of  a  company  of  soldiers  !  For 
once,  if  never  before  or  since,  they  felt  the  distinctions  of  race 
even  more  completely  blotted  out  than  the  advocates  of  the  Fif- 
teenth Amendment  and  the  Civil  Eights  Bill  could  hope,  and 
they  did  not  scruple  to  accept  the  assistance  of  these  black  sol- 
diers. "  The  colored  troops  fought  nobly,^'  and  when  Gen.  Mer- 
ritt  arrived  with  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  there  was  but  little  more  to  be 
done.  The  Utes,however,did  not  return  to  their  reservation  un- 
til the  burning  of  their  agency,  and  the  murder  of  many  white 
men  had  enraged  the  surrounding  country. 

Trouble  with  the  Poncas  was  anticipated,  when,  early  in  1881, 
they  were  removed  from  their  reservation,  which  was  ceded  to 
the  Sioux,  who  would  not  accept  the  gift.    But  before  the  In 
dians  could  take  decisive  action,  the  presence  of  G-ens.  Croo) 
and  Miles,  who  had  been  sent  with  two  columns  to  visit  and  r- 
port  upon  the  state  of  affairs,  frightened  them  into  submissia^ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


APACHE  OUTBEEAKS- 

EXCEPTING-  the  Sioux,  the  Apaches  are  perhaps  the  most 
formidable  of  our  Indian  tribes.  The  various  bands  had 
been  committing  depredations  along  the  Mexican  border  for  many- 
years,  seemingly  unchecked  by  the  authority  of  either  country. 
Indeed,  such  are  the  natural  strongholds  in  which  they  take  refuge 
that  they  are  safe  from  all  pursuit.  Bowlders  and  scrub  timber 
shelter  them,  when  the  troops  would  climb  the  steep  sides  of  the 
canons,  and  enable  them  to  pour  forth  a  deadly  fir^  with  entire 
safety  to  themselves. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when,  in  the  beginning  of  Septem- 
ber, 1882,  Gen.  Crook  was  ordered  to  Arizona,  to  deal  with  these 
unconquerable  foes.  Wary  and  cunning,  he  had  won  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  best  Indian  fighter  on  the  border;  certainly 
his  constant  use  of  Indian  allies  enabled  him  to  trace  the  enemy 
under  circumstances  where  white  men  alone  would  have  no 
chance.  The  fall  and  winter  were  devoted  to  the  work  of 
pacification,  in  the  hope  that  war  might  be  averted.  But  a  so- 
called  tribe  consists  of  numberless  bands,  any  one  of  which  may 
go  to  war  while  the  others  faithfully  keep  thepeace.  Even  while 
Crook  was  persuading  the  Apaches  that  they  had  better  stay  on 
their  reservation,  the  Chiricahuas,  the  most  bloodthirsty  band 
of  the  tribe,  had  crossed  the  boundary,  and  were  pillaging  and 
murdering  in  Mexico.  Early  in  the  spring,  they  recrossed  the 
line,  bent  on  the  same  errand  in  the  United  States,  and  again 
the  border  was  devastated  by  the  pitiless  savage  ^  the  hardy 
pioneer  was  called  on  to  defend  himself  and  family  from  fierce 
attacks  by  night  and  by  day,  and  massacre  and  rapine  formed 
the  burden  of  news  from  that  regioa.  Among  their  earliest  vic- 
tims were  Judge  MeComas  and  his  wife,  who  had  gone  from  St. 
Louis  to  look  after  some  mining  interests;  therr  six-year-old 
son  Obarll-e  being  carried  into  captivity. 


APACUE  OUTBREAKS. 


This  occurred  within  twenty-five  miles  of  Gen.  Crook's  head- 
quarters, but  so  little  did  the  savages  fear  pursuit  that  they  raiur- 
dered  twenty  other  persons  before  they  took  refuge  in  the  fast- 
nesses of  the  Sierra  Madre. 

May  1st,  1883,  Gen.  Crook  left  San  Bernardino  Springs  with 
a  force  made  up  of  one  hundred  and  ninetj^-thrce  friendly 
Apaches,  and  one  company  of  cavalry,  consisting  of  forty-two 
enlisted  men.  The  Indians  were  commanded  by  white  officers, 
and  were  relied  upon  as  the  most  serviceable  part  of  the  com- 
mand in  catching  the  slippery  foe  in  that  inaccessible  country. 

Moving  southeast  through  a  region  desolated  by  the  savage 
marauders,  for  three  days  they  saw  no  human  beings  but  each 
other.  Through  the  jungles  of  cane  and  mesquite  that  covered 
the  once  cultivated  land  they  followed  the  trail  of  the  hostiles, 
the  guide  Peaches''  leading  them  on.  Crossing  the  line,  they 
were  received  with  exuberant  joy  by  the  Mexicans,  who  lived  in 
constant  fear  of  the  Apaches.  The  authorities  offered  every  as- 
sistance, even  to  guides;  but  the  latter  proffer  was  declined.  As 
they  advanced,  the  trail  became  fresher,  and  there  were  abun- 
dant proofs  that  the  Chiricahuas  were  not  far  oflP.  The  scouts,  a 
day's  journey  in  advance  of  the  cavalry,  at  last  discovered  a  camp. 
If  not  surprised,  the  hostiles  could  never  be  dislodged  from  their 
natural  fortress,  and  Crook  gave  orders  for  surrounding  the  camp^ 

The  surprise  was  complete,  and  for  hours  the  fight  raged  hot- 
ly. But  the  nature  of  the  country  favored  the  Chiricahuas.  De- 
spairing of  victory,  they  left  the  camp  and  its  contents  to  the 
enemy,  and  sought  shelter  in  the  surrounding  ravines.  Five  half 
grown  girls  and  boys  were  taken  prisoners,  and  the  bodies  of 
nine  warriors  were  afterward  found  ;  but  a  further  search  could 
not  be  made  without  great  danger. 

The  camp  had  been  captured,  and  the  Apache  loss  was  probably 
severe;  but  the  risk  of  running  into  an  ambush  was  so  great 
that  pursuit  was  not  advisable.  Besides,  the  whole  band  had 
been  alarmed  by  the  destruction  of  this  camp,  and  the  troops 
must  wait  to  execute  a  second  surprise,  after  the  Indians  had 
quieted  down,  or  else  accept  their  surrender. 

The  fight  took  place  May  16th.  The  succeeding  day  the  Chiri^ 
cahuas  tried  to  treat  through  squaws,  but  Crook  demanded 
chiefs  to  act  as  representatives.    In  obedience  to  this,  a  Chirica 
hua,  a  leading  man  of  the  tribe,  though  not  a  chief^  came  ia 
the  18thy  and  gave  much  information  as  to  the  movemeiits  of  kia 


474 


APACHE  OUTBREAKS. 


people.  One  piece  of  news  was  received  with  satisfaction  :  a  lit- 
tle white  boy,  captured  in  New  Mexico,  had  been  in  Chato's 
camp — the  one  attacked — and  that  the  squaws  had  carried  him 
off  when  they  broke  away  at  the  first  sign  of  an  attack. 

The  chiefs  came  in,  one  after  another,  and  professed  their 
readiness  to  surrender;  but  Gen.  Crook  would  make  no  promises 
of  pardon  for  such  offenders.    Hieronymo,  Chato,  Benito,  Loco, 


TREATING  FOR  PEACE  WITH  GENERAL  CROOK. 


Jfatchez,  Kan  Tin  No,  all  begged  for  an  assurance  of  safety ; 
but  Crook  told  them  that  he  could  not  allow  them  even  a  few 
days  to  gather  up  their  followers;  that  they  must  take  the 
chances  of  a  fight  with  the  exasperated  Mexicans  or  Americans 
if  they  could  not  catch  up  with  the  troops.  Indeed,  he  could  not 
wait  for  them,  as  his  supplies  were  not  sufficient  for  troops  and 
prisoners. 

Three  hundred  and  eighty-four  Chiricahuas  had  been  taken, 
mostly  squaws  and  very  old  men;  and  six  Mexican  women  bad 


476  -^APACHE  OUTBREAKS, 

been  recapturea.  With  these  prisoners  Gen.  Crook  set  out  on 
the  return  march,  leaving  the  warriors  to  follow  at  their  own 
time.  His  later  experience  is  a  curious  instance  of  the  fickle- 
ness of  popular  opinion.  Eeceived  with  rejoicings,  he  was  ban* 
queted  and  lionized  by  the  citizens;  but  when  they  saw  his 
prisoners,  and  knew  that  no  warriors  had  yet  come  in,  that 


CRARLIE  MCCOMAS. 

Charlie  McComas,  whom  he  had  promised  to  bring  back  with 
him,  was  still  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  he  was  denounced  as 
an  unmitigated  fraud.  The  press  caught  up  the  cry,  and  his 
campaign  was  called  a  failure.  Gen.  Crook,  however,  was  sen- 
sible enough  to  bide  his  time  without  indulging  in  any  effort  to 
vindicate  himself;  and  the  falsity  of  the  charge  of  failure  was 
sbowr  when  the  first  band  came  in  and  surrendered.    Not  until 


APACHE  OUTBREAKS. 


the  end  of  the  next  winter  was  the  victory  complete,  for  then 
the  last  band  of  hostile  Apaches  gave  themseJves  up. 

One  more  touch  to  the  sketch,  and  we  are  done.  Gen.  Crook 
had  ordered  them  to  bring  in  the  captive  child,  but  as  month 
after  month  passed  by  and  still  they  did  not  obey,  even  he  began 
to  distrust  them.  The  following  dispatch  explains  why  they  did 
not  come : 

Presidio,  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  March  23,  1884. 
To  the  Adjutant- General  of  the  United  States  Army,  at  Washington, 

The  following  disptitch  of  this  date  has  just  been  received  from  Gen.  Crook: 
A  most  careful  examination  has  been  made,  and  the  testimony  of  the  Indians  is  that 
Charlie  McComas  was  never  seen  alive  after  the  night  in  the  Sierra  Madre.  The 
Indians  scattered  in  every  direction  at  the  moment  of  the  attack.  The  country 
there  is  indescribably  rough,  the  sides  of  the  canons  being  covered  with  bowlders 
and  scrub  timber  which  effectually  conceals  one  taking  refuge  in  them.  I  am  satis- 
fied that  the  Apaches  hunted  for  him,  as  they  promised  to  do,  but  it  was  so  very 
cold,  and  the  rain  fell  that  night,  washing  away  his  footprints,  so  that  he  could  not 
be  trailed.  There  is  now  every  reason  to  believe  that  he  perished  from  cold  and  ex.- 
posure.  John  Pope,  Major-General. 

GERONIMO. 

Women  and  whisky  are  said  to  be  the  two  causes  of  more  quar 
rels  than  are  excited  by  anything  else.  In  the  larger  contests 
called  wars,  love  of  power  and  other  ambitions  take  the  place  of 
these  primitive  incitements  ;  but  the  Indian  of  the  present  day 
has  no  such  desires ;  he  is  an  animal  to  whom  the  privilege  and 
the  means  of  getting  drunk  are  the  supreme  good;  and  in  what- 
ever contempt  he  may  hold  the  fair  sex  in  general,  he  i^  as  easily 
t^wayed  by  a  keen-witted  woman  as  are  any  of  his  white  brethren. 

The  trufe  cause  of  the  Apache  outbreak  in  the  spring  of  1885  is 
not  easily  determined.  Various  reasons  have  been  assigned  for 
Geronimo  and  his  braves  taking  the  war-path.  Perhaps  the  fol- 
lowing is  the  most  probable  combination  of  the  two  reasons 
which  have  been  most  confidently  and  authoritatively  assigned, 
by  those  who  were  in  the  best  position  to  know. 

Among  the  arts  which  the  Indian  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona 
possesses  is  that  of  making  a  beverage  called  tiswin,  compared 
with  which  fusil  oil  and  Jersey  lightning  are  as  mild  and  harm- 
less as  xiew  milk.  But  these  Chiricahuas  are  not  squeamish  as 
T^^ards  the  flavor  of  their  liquors  ;  strength  is  all  that  is  re- 
ci'uirecf.  Rendered  desperate  by  long  enforced  temperance,  the 
Indians  of  this  tribe,  which  is  a  sub-division  of  the  great  nation  of 
the  Apaches,  concocted  a  quantity  of  tiswin,and  the  braves  got  up- 


GEEONIMO. 


on  a  glorious  drunk.  So  much  is  certain,  for  it  appears  upon  the 
records  of  the  War  Department.  With  returning  sobriety  came 
repentance,  and  a  wholesome  fear  of  Gen.  Crook,  by  whose  vigi- 
lant care  of  his  Indian  charges  such  sprees  were  strictly  forbid- 
den and  surely  punished.  Lieut.  Davis,  in  command  of  the  post, 
was  interviewed  regarding  their  offense  and  the  probability  of 
punishment. 

^'I  must  report  the  matter  to  Gen.  Crook,^^  replied  the  officer; 
"  I  cannot  say  what  steps  he  will  see  fit  to  take  in  the  matter/' 

The  braves  withdrew  anxious  and  fearful;  bat  concealing  their 
real  feelings  beneath  a  sullen  gravity.  At  this  point  in  the  nar- 
rative comes  in  the  other  disturbing  element.  The  envoys  re- 
ported the  ominous  reply  of  the  lieutenant  to  the  others  of  the 
tribe;  and  the  matter  was  discussed  at  length.  Huera,  the  wife 
of  Mangus,  a  principal  chief  of  the  tribe,  possessed  an  influence 
over  the  braves  seldom  equalled  by  Indian  women.  To  her  fierce 
utterances  they  listened  not  unwillingly.  It  was  not  long  before 
she  had  convinced  them  that  to  stay  and  await  punishment  was> 
a  course  unworthy  of  warriors  ;  and  the  next  day  saw  them  upon 
the  war-path.  Their  chosen  chief  was  Geronimo,  a  half-breed 
Mexican,  who  had,  while  yet  a  boy,  been  captured  by  the 
Apaches.  A  willing  pupil  of  the  famous  Cochise,  he  had  learned, 
every  detail  of  Indian  generalship;  and  had  succeeded  him  in 
the  highest  oflSce  in  the  gift  of  the  tribe.  They  had  escaped  puur 
ishment,  for  a  time  at  least ;  for  it  is  an  axiom  of  Indian  warfare, 
the  truth  of  which  is  at  once  apparent,  that  you  cannot  do  any- 
thing with  an  Indian  until  you  have  caught  him. 

This  interview,  v^^hich  ended  so  disastrously  for  the  white  set- 
tlers in  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  and  ultimately  for  the  Chiri- 
cahuas  themselves,  took  place  about  the  middle  of  April,  1885. 
It  was  the  15th  of  that  month  when  the  flight  of  the  Indiansfrom 
the  reservation  was  discovered.  The  troops  were  at  once  pre- 
pared for  pursuit,  and  the  long  chase  began.  Their  earliest  field 
of  operations  was  in  that  portion  of  New  Mexico  bounded  by  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  E.  E.  on  the  north,  the  Ladron  and  Mag- 
ialena  mountains  on  the  east,  the  Gila  river  on  the  south,  and 
the  boundary  line  of  Arizona  on  the  west.  Geronimo  knew  this 
country  as  well  as  if  he  had  made  it  himself,^'  was  the  quaint  re- 
mark of  a  newspaper  correspondent;  and  if  it  had  been  made 
to  order  it  could  not  have  suited  him  better.  From  mountain 
fastnesses  inaccessible  to  the  ordinary  white  man,  the  Apache 


480 


cculd  lock  dowD  upon  the  troops  sent  in  pursuit  of  him;  from 

his  hiding  place  m  the  hills  he  could  make  a  sudden  dash  upon 
scouting-parties.  or  cut  off  supply  trains  ;  and  the  wily  savage 
knew  bow  to  time  these  descents  so  as  to  avoid  danger  of  dimin- 
ishing his  band. 

But  it  was  not  only  in  finding  secure  hiding-places  that  the  In- 
dians were  too  much  for  the  whites.  Had  that  been  all,  they 
might  have  been  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  soldiers,  and  re- 
duced by  famine.  They  had  pathways  known  only  to  themselveSj 
by  which  they  could  elude  pursuit.  Issuing  from  their  rocky 
caves  and  lofty  eyries,  the  untiring  children  of  the  plains  would 
descend  upon  the  isolated  settlements  which  are  scattered  ovev 
the  two  territories,  and  write  in  fire  and  blood  the  message  oi 
defiance  to  the  general  whom  they  had  once  feared.  Now  ant. 
then,  perhapSj  a  captive  woman  or  child  would  be  carried  off  to? 
fate  worse  than  death;  but  more  often  all  fell  beneath  the  murder 
ous  stroke  of  the  Apache.  Possessing  themselves  of  the  horseis 
which  had  once  belonged  to  the  murdered  settler,  they  would 
ride  off.  However  hot  the  pursuit  they  were  not  to  be  caught 
The  cavalry  must  have  rest,  not  only  for  themselves,  but  for 
their  horses.  Bat  if  the  steeds  of  the  Indians  tired,  they  had  but 
to  steal  others  at  the  settlements  which  they  passed,  and,  fresb 
ly  mounted,  the  unwearied  red  men  laughed  at  the  white  man'i? 
best  speed.  From  ninety  to  one  hundred  miles  in  the  course  of 
the  day  was  no  unusual  achievement,  though  they  were  encum» 
bered  with  their  women  and  children;  and  if  necessity  required 
they  could  travel  as  far  again  without  resting. 

But  their  depredations  were  not  long  confined  to  these  narrow 
limitSc  Escaping  from  the  soldiers  who  had  nearly  surrounded 
them,  the  Chiricahuas  fled  into  Mexico,  The  Apache  campaign 
of  1883  had  brought  about  an  understanding  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexican  governments,  that  the  troops  of  either  nation 
were  to  be  permitted  to  pursue  hostile  Indians  into  the  ter- 
ritories of  the  other.  Acting  upon  this  understanding,  various 
parties  were  at  different  times  sent  across  the  Mexican  line  into 
the  Sonora  and  Chihuahua,  and  frequent  brushes  with  the  In- 
dians were  the  consequence.  In  accordance  with  the  well-known 
theory  of  Gen.  Crook,  a  number  of  Apache  scouts  were  sworn  in- 
to the  service  of  the  United  States,  between  two  or  three  hundred 
being  under  the  command  of  Capt.  Crawford  alone. 

From  point  to  point  along  the  I:  order  the  soldiers  pursued  the 


482 


GERONIMO. 


fugitives.  Now  and  then,  a  sudden  encounter  between  them  ^ould 
result  in  the  death  of  one  or  two  whites^  and  the  retreat  of  the 
Indians.  These  meetings  would  generally  result  from  the  efbrts 
of  the  Chiricahuas  to  supply  themselves  with  horses  or  cattle 
from  the  ranches  of  the  settlers.  To  detail  one  is  to  describe  all 
That  occurring  on  the  11th  of  October,  1885,  is  perhaps  as  ©faar- 
acteristic  as  any.    Let  us  briefly  rehearse  the  circumstances. 

On  Saturday,  the  10th,  Geronimo's  party  had  driven  off  about 
thirty  head  of  cattle  belonging  to  the  Corrallitos  Company.  The 
scene  of  the  theft  was  Eamos,  and  two  of  the  company's  em- 
ployees at  that  point,  Messrs.  Megrew  and  Wallace,  immediate* 
ly  organized  a  party  to  go  in  pursuit  of  the  thieves.  Thirteei/ 
vaqueros  was  the  force  which  they  mustered.    Early  the  next 
morning  they  came  upon  the  position  which  the  Indians  occu- 
pied. It  was  on  both  sides  of  a  canon,  the  cattle  being  secured  in 
the  deep  ravine  along  with  their  horses.    The  cowboys,  encour- 
aged by  their  gallant  leaders,  rushed  to  the  attack.  Thdindians, 
vastly  their  superiors  in  point  of  numbers,  and  occupying  a  pos- 
ition having  great  advantages  for  defense^  received  the  attack 
with  more  than  usual  boldnesSc     The  Apaches  crept  along 
the  brush  which  stretched  partly  down  the  hill,  and  opened  fire 
upon  the  vaqueros  from  two  or  three  directions  at  once.  The 
cowboys  yielded,  and  began  to  retire.    Seeing  this,  a  party  oi 
four  bucks  came  out  from  their  shelter,  and  began  to  descend  the 
*  sides  of  the  mountain*    One  of  the  Mexicans  fell  from  his  horse. 
Megrew,  who  was  near  him,  instantly  drew  rein,  and  springing 
to  the  ground,  raised  the  fallen  man  in  his  arms,  thinking  to  save 
him  from  an  Indian  captivity  or  massacre.    But  it  was  usel.ess  ; 
the  man  was  dead  when  he  reached  his  side.    Standing  over  his 
fallen  follower,  the  American  drew  a  bead  on  the  foremost  of  the 
pursuers.    The  Indian  leaped  from  the  ground,  and  fell  dead  in 
his  tracks.    Before  the  enemy  could  again  take  aim,  the  others, 
repenting  their  rash  courage  in  leaving  shelter,  turned  and  fled 
badk  t©  the  main  body.  The  death  of  their  comrade  was  avenged 
by  a  volley  from  the  hills,  which,  however,  did  no  harm  to  the 
whites,  who  were  by  this  time  convinced  that  they  could  not 
h^pe  to  dislodge  the  Indians  from  their  advantageous  position. 
B^A  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  fights  which  frequently  occurred 
throughout  the  summer  and  fall  of  1885;  though  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  the  loss  of  a  brave  was  rather  an  unusual  thing 
for  the  Indians  to  experience. 


GERONIMO. 


483 


Many  times  through  the  fall  of  this  year,  the  death  of  Geron- 
^Aio  was  rumored.  The  present  historian  has  not  made  any  exact 
calculation,  but  has  an  impression  that  the  chief  was  regularly 
killed  every  week  for  about  two  months.  At  the  beginning  of 
this  season,  Sept.  21,  he  had  the  temerity  to  venture  totheChiri- 
cahua  camps,  300  yards  from  Port  Apache.  Here  he  remained 
until  day-break,  when 
he  left  for  his  hostile 
camp,  taking  with  him 
two  squaws,  and  as 
much  war  material  as 
his  pony  could  carry. 

The  1st  of  Novem- 
ber, Geronimo  was  suf- 
ficiontlj^  alive  to  be 
running  from  the  Uni- 
ted States  troops  under 
the  command  of  Lieut. 
Day  ;  and  no  less  than 
three  fights  took  place 
between  this  body  of 
troops  and  the  fugitive 
savages  aboutthis  date. 
It  was  a  comparatively 
easy  thing  for  the  Indians  to  elude  the  regular  cavalry.  But 
Capt.  Crawford,  with  his  Apache  scouts,  were  equally  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  country,  and  fully  as  able  to  endure  hardships 
as  the  hostiles  themselves. 

This  able  officer,  a  warm  personal  friend  of  the  general  incom^ 
mand  of  the  Department,  was  one  of  those  who  joined  the  army 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War.  Beginning  at  the  very  foot  of 
the  ladder,  without  military  training,  and  probably  without  po- 
litical influence,  he  had  made  his  slow  and  laborious  way  to  that 
rank  shown  by  his  title.  Serving  under  Gen.  Crook  in  all  his  In- 
dian wars,  he  had  won  that  officer's  high  regard,  as  a  man  and  a  sol- 
dier. From  his  subordinates,  too,  the  respect  which  must  be  shown 
'^o  a  superior  was  not  an  empty  form.  The  Apaches,  especiall}^,  who 
of  all  men  were  least  likely  to  obey  an  officer  simply  because  of 
the  rank  which  he  had  attained,  were  more  docile  in  his  hands 
than  in  any  others.  It  was  owing  to  his  skill  in  using  troops  of 
this  peculiar  nature  that  he  was  placed  in  command  of  almost  the 


CAPT.  CRAWFORD. 


484 


GERONIMO. 


entire  body  of  Indian  scouts,  a  mere  handful  being  reserved  to  act 
as  guides  and  messengers  for  the  other  commands. 

Since  no  one  can  fight  the  Apaches  as  well  as  their  own  peo- 
ple, Capt.  Crawford  had  a  great  advantage  over  the  other  officers 
in  the  pursuit  of  Geronimo;  nor  did  the  nature  of  the  man  set 
this  at  nought.  All  through  November  and  December  he  was 
upon  their  trail,  patiently  tracking  them  through  the  mount- 
ainous wilds  of  the  two  territories  and  the  neighboring  portions 
of  Mexico.  The  story  could  not  be  told  by  any  other,  how  skill- 
fully he  avoided  the  traps  which  the  wily  Chiricahuas  set  for  him 
how  wonderfully  he  guided  and  controlled  the  wild  legion  which 
he  commanded  ;  and  from  him  there  is  nothing  but  the  dry  and 
formal  reports  to  his  superior  officer.  His  men  have  sung  his 
praises,  and  it  is  from  them,  as  well  as  from  these  same  brief  re 
ports,  and  the  accounts  of  his  enemies,  that  the  story  is  drawn. 

By  dint  of  making  long  night  marches,  and  undergoing  almost 
incredible  privations,  this  command  had  succeeded  in  coming  up 
with  the  flying  Apaches.  Geronimo,  thoroughly  terrified  whew 
be  learned  that  his  own  people  were  on  his  trail,  had  made  hU 
best  speed,  but  in  vain.  The  Apache  scouts  represented  themort 
stable  portion  of  the  tribe,  which  was  wholly  at  variance  witj 
the  lawless  portion  known  as  the  Chiricahuas,  of  whom  they 
were  in  constant  fear.  They  had  much  the  same  reasons  as  the 
whites  for  desiring  the  capture  of  the  fugitives,  and  willingly 
followed  the  leader  whom  they  loved  and  respected,  even 
when  the  path  lay  in  the  midst  of  hardships  and  danger.  The 
hostiles  were  encamped  near  Nacori,  in  the  State  of  Sonora. 
Though  they  knew  that  the  enemy  was  not  far  off,  they  thought 
that  they  were  safe  for  that  night  at  least.  Silently  up  the  side 
T)f  the  mountain,  while  the  January  dawn  was  still  dim  and  gray, 
the  scouts  crept,  guided  and  led  by  their  commander.  The  hos- 
tiles, careless  in  their  fancied  security,  were  sleeping,  if  not  the 
sleep  of  the  just,  at  least  the  sleep  of  men  who  had  been  chased  foi 
hundreds  of  miles  over  a  rough,  mountainous  country ;  who  had 
been  in  the  saddle  for  perhaps  twenty  hours  before  they  dare  to 
halt  and  rest.  Suddenly  the  crack  of  Winchester  rifles  rang  out 
Upon  the  air.  The  braves  start  from  the  slumbers;  the  squawb 
clasp  the  drowsy  children  in  an  agony  of  fear ;  for  they  are  but  wo- 
men, after  all,  these  hardy,  often  cruel  wives  of  the  warriors. 
The  alarm  runs  from  one  to  the  other ;  the  men  hastily  grasp  their 
weapons,  and  discharge  them  at  random.  The  fire  that  is  poured 


<^EE0NI5?C. 


485 


:ric  tne  camp  it  blojiuy  md  regulaic  ihough  ^u^y  »cxacking  party 
OT©  something  oi  a  disadvantage  in  point  of  position.  But  the 
surprise  has  compensated  for  that,  and  the  fcuddenly  awakened 
Indians  are  soon  convinced  that  their  case  is  a  hopeless  one. 

The  lay  of  the  land  was  such  that  Capt.  Crawford  would  not 
venture  a  hand-to-hand  conflict,  unless  the  case  absolutely  com- 
pelled it.  Fortunately  for  his  purpose,  the  hostiles  recognized 
that  they  would  ultimately  be  at  his  mercy ;  that  the  most  they 
could  hope  to  do  would  be  to  protract  the  struggle,  and  thus  en* 
rage  the  inevitably  victorious  assailants  still  more.  He  who  dek^ 
fends  an  untenable  position  incurs  the  death-penalty;  and  ofthia 
rule  of  warfare  the  cunning  Chiricahuas  was  not  ignorant.  Eely- 
upon  the  white  man^s  chivalry,  the  squaws  of  the  camp  were  dis- 
patched as  messengers  to  the  officer.  The  firing  upon  the  camp 
JCased,  and  the  conferance  began.  The  women  stated  that  the 
tbraves  wished  to  confer  with  Capt.  Crawford ;  that  they  were 
worn  out  with  the  long  chase  ;  and  that  they  were  ready  to  meet 
*bf3n.  Crook  and  surrender  to  him.  Terms  they  had  none  to  pro- 
pose ;  they  would  place  themselves  at  the  mercy  of  the  victor.  As 
i/Sort  of  guarantee  that  they  would  hold  to  their  bargain,  Capt. 
Crawford  demanded  that  they  should  surrender  their  horses, 
iBules,  ammunition,  wagons  and  camp  untensils.  His  require* 
inents  were  at  once  complied  with,  and  it  was  agreed  that  a  con* 
ference  should  be  held  the  next  day,  looking  to  a  meeting  ibo* 
iween  Gen.  Crook  and  the  fugitives  from  his  anger. 

It  becomes  necessary  for  us  to  go  back  a  few  days,  in  order 
ixplain  the  events  of  the  next  few  hours.  While  the  Apaoh© 
4C0uts  behaved  themselves  reasonably  well  within  the  limits  of 
jiieir  camp,  and  while  under  the  surveillance  of  their  white  ofll« 
^ers,  when  they  were  free  from  this  watchfulness  the  Indian  law- 
lessness returned  in  full  force.  Some  of  the  men  of  Crawford^S 
command  had  committed  depredations  upon  the  Mexican  citi- 
ens.  Added  to  this,  it  was  not  always  easy  for  the  harrassed 
jottiers  to  say  whether  their  assailants  were  Geronimo^s  band  or 
not.  Of  course.  United  States  soldiers  ought  to  be  distinguish- 
?Mq  by  their  uniforms,  particularly  when  they  are  upon  the  soil 
3x  a  friendly  country,  in  pursuit  of  a  common  enemy;  but  if  the 
Jnittd  States  soldier  insists  upon  reserving  his  uniform  for  state 
DCcasions,  and  ordinarily  wears  the  scanty  garb  of  the  aforesaid 
common  enemy,  how  is  the  friendly  nation  to  distinguisn  I  Su  :^ 
the  difficulty  which  the  Mei^io^  trCv^c  ancourt^rovi 


GERONIMO. 


could  not  be  avoided,  for  the  Apache,  accontered  in  full  uniform, 
would  not  have  been  the  same  lithe  and  active  mountaineer  which 
he  is  when  in  his  accustomed  severely  simple  dress;  but  it  gavo 
rise  to  the  most  lamentable  circumstance  of  the  war. 

The  Mexicans  had  suffered  severely  from  the  depredations  of 
the  Indians^  as  well  as  their  neighbors  across  the  border;  and 
they,  as  well  as  the  Northerners,  were  determined  to  resent  and 
punish  the  outrages.  The  early  part  of  January,  particularly^ 
had  been  fruitful  in  such  attacks  ;  and  there  was  more  than  one 
force  in  pursuit  of  the  marauders.  Even  before  the  beginning  of 
the  year  there  had  been  determined  efforts  made.  A  body  of 
Mexicans,  150  s-trong,  under  the  command  of  Santa  Ana  Perez, 
a  captain  in  the  Mexican  army,  had  trailed  a  band  of  Indians  for 
seventeen  days,  marching  almost  constantly.  The  utmost  speed 
of  the  Indians  had  not  availed  them  much  in  this  extremity,  for 
they  had  barely  reached  the  main  body  of  Geronimo's  men  when 
the  Mexicans  came  up  with  them.  The  fugitives  found  their  com^ 
rades  treating  with  a  United  States  officer.  They  had  jumped 
from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire. 

The  Mexicans,  nothing  daunted  by  the  sight  of  the  consider- 
able village  which  lay  before  them,  opened  fire  upon  it.  They 
had  followed  that  trail  too  long  to  be  balked  of  their  revenge, 
simply  because  they  had  a  somewhat  larger  force  to  deal  with 
than  they  had  expected  to  meet.  Through  all  the  long  days,  when, 
almost  starving,  almost  famishing,  they  had  followed  the  thiev- 
ing, murdering  Apaches,  they  had  hungered  and  thirsted  more 
for  their  blood  than  for  actual  food  and  drink. 

The  supposed  camp  of  Geronimo  was  not  to  be  easily  taken. 
Their  fire  was  returned  promptly  and  with  telling  effect.  Sud- 
denly above  the  conflict  is  heard  a  boy's  shrill  voice  : 

"  For  God's  sake,  stop  firing!  These  areUnited  States  troops." 

Even  as  he  speaks,  there  is  a  report  from  a  Mexican  rifle, 
though  the  captain  had  already  given  the  signal  to  stop  firing. 
The  ball  speeds  on  its  way,  and  finds  its  mark — the  brain  of 
the  gallant  officer  who  had  so  nearly  conquered  Geronimo. 
With  a  muttered  curse  upon  the  hand  which  aimed  it,  an  Aj)acho 
returns  the  shot;  then  drops  his  rifle,  and  raises  his  leader  ir 
his  arms.  This  Apache  is  ^'Dutchy''  l»ong  a  favorite,  and  do- 
servedly  so,  with  Capt.  Crawford ;  devotedly  attached  to  his 
commander,  he  could  only  avenge  his  death — not  prevent  it 

Among  the  Mexicans  the  hand  of  death  had  also  been  busy; 


GERONIMO. 


487 


and  had  touched  one  of  their  bravest  officers,  Maurfcio  Coredor, 
who  had  rendered  great  service,  not  only  to  Mexico,  but  to  the 
United  States,  in  ridding  the  earth  of  Yictorio,  that  bloodthirsty 
and  cruel  Apache,  a  worthy  predecessor  of  G-eronimo. 

The  firing  ceased,  and  Lieut.  Maus,  the  second  in  command, 
advanced,  accompanied  only  by  the  boy  who  had  called  out,  to 
confer  with  the  Mexican  leader.  The  United  States  uniform  is 
not  of  itself  an  all-sufficient  guarantee  in  such  a  case,  and  Capt. 


"dxttght,**  the  avenger  of  capt.  Crawford's  i>eath. 

Santa  Ana,  worn  out  by  the  long  chase  and  irritated  by  the  fre- 
quent outrages  of  the  cunning  Apaches,  was  doubtful  as  to  the 
course  which  he  ought  to  pursue.  Lieut.  Mans  replied  that  when 
they  should  reach  ISTacori,  he  could  produce  papers  to  show  that 
he  was  what  he  claimed  to  be.  But  Santa  Ana,  resolved  that  he 
would  not  fail  in  discretion,  refused  to  allow  an  Apache,  whether 
a  United  States  scout  or  not,  to  approach  his  camp. 


GBRONIMC 


The  icxicans  had  lost  another  oflScer  besides  the  one  above- 
mentioned^  and  two  privates.  Nine  of  their  number  were 
wonnded;  or,  as  the  accounts  say,  only  four.  Of  the  United 
States  force^  two  privates  were  wounded;  the  commanding  oflS- 
cer  being  the  only  one  whose  injury  proved  fatal.  Matters  be- 
tween Lieut.  Mans  and  Gapt.  Santa  Ana  were  finally  adjusted, 
each  giving  the  other  a  letter,  stating  the  manner  in  which  the 
fight  had  occurred;  so  that  neither  would  be  censured  by  his 
superior  officers  for  firing  upon  soldiers  of  a  friendly  nation. 

Lieut.  Maus  still  held  as  hostages  the  women  who  had  been 
sent  to  treat,  besides  Chief  Nana  and  one  other  warrior,  whose 
presence  in  the  camp  had  been  demanded  as  an  evidence  of 
good  faith.  A  later  conference  led  the  officer  to  believe  that 
Geronimo's  force  was  even  smaller  than  had  been  supposed. 
Gen.  Crook  had  estimated  it  at  forty-two  braves,  all  told;  but 
Maus  could  not  believe  that  there  were  more  than  eighteen 
with  the  Chiricahua  chief  at  that  time. 

It  was  at  first  thought  that  the  commanding  officer  of  this  de- 
tachment had  been  so  wounded  that  his  death  was  an  occur- 
r^ence  to  be  momentarily  expected;  but  it  did  not  prove  so. 
For  six  days  he  lingered  speechless  and  helpless.  Then  his 
tnen  took  up  the  melancholy  march,  bearing  his  body  to  Na- 
cori.  The  hostile  Indians,  whom  he  had  so  nearly  vanquished, 
took  advantage  of  the  circumstance  to  repudiate  their  offer  of 
surrender,  and  pretended  they  must  consult  others  of  the  tribe. 
When  they  should  find  these  other  braves,  all  would  surrender. 

The  agreement  had  been  made  in  such  terms  that  this  was 
no  actual  breach  of  faith ;  though,  if  Crawford  had  lived,  they 
would  doubtless  have  held  more  strictly  to  the  spirit  of  their 
bargain.  As  it  was,  only  a  slight  advantage  had  been  gained; 
and  the  long  march  of  the  Mexicans  had  not  resulted  in  any 
injury,  but  rather  in  an  advantage  to  the  enemy  pursued. 

Having  escorted  the  body  of  Capt.  Crawford  to  Nacori, 
where  it  was  temporarily  interred,  Lieut.  Maus,  upon  whom  the 
command  had  devolved,  encamped  with  all  his  force  upon  thej 
banks  of  San  Bernardino  Creek,  whence  he  sent  a  courier  to' 
Gen.  Crook  at  Fort  Bowie  with  the  request  of  the  Chirieahuas 
for  a  speedy  interview.  Meanwhile,  the  wish-es  of  the  settlers 
had  far  outrun  the  facts,  and  it  was  asserted  that  Geronimo 
hani  already  surrendered  with  all  his  braves. 

Gen.  Crook  at  once  assented  to  the  request,  and  set  off  for  the 


GERONIMO. 


489 


':ndezvou&.  The  journey  of  forty  miles  was  goon  completed, 
and  communications  were  made  with  the  Indians,  whose  camp 
was  about  twenty-five  south  of  Maus'.  It  would  take  some  time, 
they  said,  to  collect  all  the  braves  belonging  to  the  band,  as  they 
were  scattered  about  the  rough  mountain  country  and  could  not 
readily  be  reached  by  couriers.  Meanwhile,  the  settlers  were 
anxious  about  the  surrender,  and,  as  before,  had  it  all  arranged 
to  their  satisfaction  several  times  before  the  commanding  officer 
had  fixed  the  date  for  it.  The  number  of  times  that  Geronimc 
had  been  killed  in  the  fall  of  1885  was  at  least  equalled  by  the 
number  of  times  that  he  finally  surrendered  in  the  spring  of 
1886.  Unfortunately  for  the  peace  of  the  two  territories,  cap- 
turing was  no  more  effective,  when  done  in  imagination,  than 
killing  in  the  same  way ;  and  Geronimo  remained  in  his  camp 
Until  late  in  March,  more  than  a  month  after  Gen.  Crook  reach- 
ed San  Bernardino.  All  details  had  been  arranged  for  the  con- 
ference, and  it  was  thought  that  the  Indians  could  interpose  no 
further  delays.  They  professed  themselves  worn  out  by  the  long 
•?hase,  and,  tired  of  war,  they  heartily  wished  for  peace.  The 
ight  in  which  Crawford  was  killed  had  occurred  Jan.  11 ;  it  was 
aow  the  29th  of  March ;  and  by  the  morrow  the  whole  business 
t^ould  doubtless  be  settled,  and  the  hostile  chiefs  in  the  hands 
of  the  United  States  forces.  With  such  ideas  floating  through 
*.heir  brains  did  the  soldiers  compose  themselves  to  rest  on  that 
night;  they  awoke  the  next  morning  to  find  that  the  Indians, 
'vho  had  been  entertaining  them  with  such  earnest  professions 
of  a  desire  for  peace,  and  such  solemn  promises  of  future  good 
behavior,  had  suddenly  brought  the  farce  to  an  end,  and  were 
laughing  at  the  success  of  the  performance,  somewhere  in  the  inac- 
cessible defiles  of  the  mountains.  Certain  frontiersmen  had  long 
protested  that  Gen.  Geronimo  was  a  better  officer  than  Gen. 
Crook,  and  this  result  seemed  to  justify  them.  Geronimo  was  cer- 
tainly a  more  accomplished  liar. 

Despite  the  prestige  of  success  which  had  attended  his  last 
campaign  with  this  tribe,  and  the  considerable  force  which  had 
been  engaged  in  the  effort  to  end  this  war.  Gen.  Crook  had  fail- 
ed. This  was  now  no  longer  to  be  concealed,  and  it  was  recog- 
nized even  in  official  quarters. 

About  the  middle  of  April,  1885,  a  year  after  the  beginning  of 
the  trouble,  Gen»  Miles  was  placed  in  command,  and  a  campaign 
was  begun  upon  different  principles.    Crook's  policy  had  been 


4U0 


GERONIMO* 


to  surround  and  crush  the  hostiles,  as  an  anaconda  does  his  prey; 
he  might  as  well  have  tried  to  crush  an  air-cushion.  Miles 
adopted  a  more  vigorous  and  active  policy ;  and  it  was  confident- 
ly predicted  that  the  war  would  soon  now  be  ended.  Among  the 
expedients  inaugurated  by  the  newly  appointed  oflScer,  was  that 
of  oif^ring  a  reward  for  each  Indian,  or  head  of  an  Indian, 
brought  in ;  $50  being  placed  as  the  value  of  an  ordinary  brave, 
while  Geronimo,  alive  or  dead,  was  to  bring  $2,000  to  his  slayer 
or  captor.  In  spite  of  these  measures,  however,  the  predictions 
of  the  speedy  end  of  the  war  were  not  verified. 

About  a  month  after  Gen.  Miles  took  command  of  the  forces 
in  pursuit  of  Geronimo,  the  southern  horizon  blazed  with  bea- 
con fires,  and  a  general  outbreak  was  feared.  The  Mexicans 
were  aroused  to  new  activity,  and  the  United  States  forces  were 
doubly  alert.  Five  times  within  twelve  days  Gen.  Miles  inform- 
ed the  War  Department  the  Indians  had  been  forced  into  a  fight 
with  the  whites ;  and  they  had  always  managed  to  escape, 
though  not  without  some  loss.  The  most  important  of  th^se 
Was  a  contest  on  the  morning  of  the  15th  of  May.  Capt.  Hat- 
field was  attacked  while  moving  through  a  deep  canon,  and  lost 
two  men  killed  and  three  wounded.  The  Tndians  lost  several, 
but  the  whites  could  not  ascertain  how  many. 

The  Indians,  harassed  as  they  were,  still  had  plenty  of  oppor- 
tunity for  depredations.  From  April  28th  to  May  25th,  there 
were  forty-seven  persons  murdered  by  them;  and  although  we 
have  no  exact  statement  of  numbers,  this  average  was  at  least 
maintained  during  the  next  month. 

The  Chiricahuas  were  now  in  the  foot-hills  of  the  Sierra  Ma- 
dre  mountains,  and  it  was  almost  impossible  to  trace  them  to 
their  hiding  places.  Capt.  Lawton  was  in  command  of  the  most 
important  force  sent  against  them,  but  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
had  enough  men  to  accomplish  the  object  proposed.  Ifomin- 
ally  there  was  a  large  force  at  the  disposal  of  the  commanding 
officer;  but,  practically, it  was  necessary  for  at  least  nine-tenths 
of  them  to  be  employed  in  guarding  the  settlers  or  watching  the 
reservations  whence  Geronimo  might  hope  for  reinforcements. 

In  that  part  of  the  country  the  rainy  season  begins  about  the 
10th  af  July.  During  the  continuance  of  wet  weather  it  would 
be  almost  or  quite  impossible  to  prosecute  the  campaign,  as  the 
hillside  strongholds  would  be  absolutely  inaccessible  to  the 
troops,    ©eronim®  had  been  taking  time  by  the  fore^lo-ck  in  pre- 


aEBjONIMO. 


491 


visioning  himself  f®\  a  si^  ge  during  this  period ;  and  when  it  be- 
gan considerably  later  than  usual,  was  well  prepared  to  defy  all 


GEN.  NELSON  A.  MILES. 

tke  efforts  of  the  soldiery.  He  had  evaded  the  watch  of  Capt* 
Jiawton*s  command  and  bad  succeeded  in  getting  back  to  tfe?e 


492 


GERONIMO. 


United  States  before  the  rains  set  in.  Gen.  Miles  was  much 
censured  by  his  late  admirers  for  not  having  pushed  matters  so 
that  the  Apaches  would  have  been  forced  to  surrender  before 
this  period  of  enforced  inactivity  on  the  part  of  the  troops  3 
but  his  reason  was  probably  the  impossibility  of  doing  so. 

Half  a  dozen  forces  were  stationed  at  various  points  on  or 
near  the  border;  the  commanding  officers  having  orders  to  scout 
^the  surrounding  country  for  several  miles  in  all  directions,  and 
communicate  by  means  of  the  heliograph  signal  system.  By 


APACHES  SCALPma  SOLI^IERS. 


these  measures  it  was  hoped  that  Geronimo  could  be  discover- 
ed, and  that  he  could  be  kept  in  his  present  quarters. 

The  authorities  were  fally  aware  of  the  fact  that  Geronimo 
received  much  aid  and  comfort  from  his  compatriots,  the  Chiri- 
oahuas,  who  remained  on  their  reservation.  It  has  been  noted 
how,  in  the  earlier  stages  of  the  war,  he  had  spent  the  night 
with  these  friends,  and  had  taken  with  him,  on  his  departure, 
as  much  war  material  as  his  nony  could  carry.    As  long  as  tb<? 


©ERONIMO. 


493 


main  body  of  the  tribe,  though  apparently  behaving  themselves, 
remained  within  reach  of  the  hostiles,  it  was  evident  that  Ger- 
onimo  would  want  for  nothing  which  the  others  could  furnish 
him.  After  due  consultation  among  the  authorities,  Gen.  Miles 
obtained  a  promise  that  this  should  be  attended  to.  Consider- 
able trouble  was  anticipated,  but,  contrary  to  expectation,  the 
Indians  submitted  quietly  enough  when  told  that  it  had  been 
decided  to  remove  them  from  their  reservation.  The  final  ob- 
jective point  had  not  been  decided  upon  when  the  work  was  be^ 
gun  by  transporting  them  to  Port  Union,  New  Mexico. 

This  took  place  the  latter  part  of  August.  When  the  inform- 
ation reached  Geronimo — or  whether  it  was  this  which  so  affect- 
ed his  decision,  does  not  appear.  He  had  held  some  conference 
with  Capt.  Lawton  regarding  the  terms  of  a  surrender.  This 
officer,  who  during  the  past  four  months  had  traveled  more  than 
twelve  hundred  miles  among  the  defiles  of  that  rough,  moun- 
tainous country,  in  pursuit  of  the  wily  Apache,  refused  to  con- 
sider any  terms  whatever  that  might  be  proposed.  Only  an  un 
conditional  surrender  would  end  the  war. 

Capt.  Lawton  was  encamped  in  Skelton  Canon,  about  sixty 
five  miles  south-east  of  Fort  Bowie,  where  Gen.  Miles  joined 
him  about  the  first  of  September.  He  was  then  in  conferenctj 
with  Geronimo,  who  was  in  the  mountains  hard  by.  Gen.  Milesi 
insisted  upon  an  unconditional  surrender  as  unequivocally  as 
Capt.  Lawton  had  done;  and  after  some  consultation  with  hits 
braves,  the  oft-killed  and  much-surrendering  Apache  at  last  sub 
mitted  himself  to  the  United  States  officers. 

This  was  the  morning  of  Sept.  3.  Gen.  Miles  remarked  that 
Natchez  was  not  among  the  Indians  who  had  surrendered;  and 
messengers  were  sent  to  him  to  induce  him  to  come  in.  He  de- 
layed until  the  evening  of  the  next  day.  His  reluctance  was  ex- 
plained by  him  in  two  ways.  In  the  first  place  he  was  fearful 
of  being  treated  as  his  grandfater,  Mangus  Colorado,  had  been  ; 
for  it  was  the  disgrace  of  that  warrior's  captors  that  he  was 
murdered  after  he  surrendered.  Assured  of  his  safety,  unless 
the  President  should  order  a  court-martial  or  deliver  the  late 
hostiles  up  to  the  civil  law,  he  said  that  he  had  delayed  for  an- 
other reason  ;  that  he,  the  son  of  the  great  warrior  Cochise,  and 
the  first  chief  of  the  Chiricahuas,  wanted  to  be  the  last  of  his 
race  to  lay  down  his  arms,  and  cease  fighting  the  whit©  men, 
whom  he  and  his  fathers  had  fought  for  two  hundred  years. 


494 


GERONIMO. 


While  he  was  with  unwonted  eloquence  telling  of  the  motives 
which  had  caused  his  delay,  a  terrible  storm  came  up.  The  su- 
perstitious savages  clung  together,  assured  that  this  was  an  evi- 
dence of  the  wrath  of  Heaven  aroused  by  their  surrender.  But 
the  storm  passed  away  as  quickly  as  it  had  come  up,  and  a 
beautiful  rainbow  over-arching  the  sky,  gave  them  promise  of 
forgiveness  and  peace  for  the  future.  It  never  seems  to  have 
entered  their  heads  that  Heaven  might  be  angry  because  they 
had  put  off  surrendering  so  long. 

The  news  of  the  surrender  spread  with  incredible  rapidity 
over  the  whole  section  of  country  which  had  suffered  so  severe- 
ly from  the  depredations  of  Geronimo  and  his  braves,  and 
there  were  rejoicings  everywhere.  Congratulatory  telegrams 
poured  in  upon  Gen.  Miles  from  all  sources  ;  and  never  was  the 
surrender  of  so  small  a  force  deemed  of  more  importance. 
Twenty-two  bucks  comprised  the  entire  force  w^hich  remained 
to  the  hostiles.  About  eighteen  months  had  been  consumed  iii 
the  effort  to  compel  their  submission.  Gen.  Miles  had  been  its 
command  just  twenty-one  weeks.  The  Indians  had  been  pur- 
sued a  distance  of  two  thousand  miles  during  that  time,  more 
than  half  the  distance  being  traversed  by  that  command  which 
was  at  last  successful.  Their  final  submission  was  only  brought 
about  by  the  relentless  animosity  which  their  own  misdeeds  had 
excited,  and  which  would  allow  them  no  opportunity  for  ob^ 
taining  food  or  rest.  Completely  worn  out  by  the  chase  at  last 
they  expressed  their  entire  willingness  to  acquiesce  in  whateve? » 
plan  might  be  made  for  their  fature  ;  and  Geronimo  himself 
promised  to  go,  without  resistance,  wherever  he  might  be  sent. 

It  was  decided  to  place  the  Chiricahuas  where  they  would 
have  neither  temptation  nor  opportunity  to  go  upon  the  war- 
path again,  and  a  point  in  Florida  was  decided  upon  as  that 
which  was  most  like  their  native  section  in  temperature,  and  af- 
fording the  necessary  safeguard  against  the  temptation  feared. 
To  that  State,then,  they  were  removed,  and  the  great  contest  of 
the  United  States  authorities  with  the  Chiricahua  Apaches, 
which  lasted  at  intervals  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
reached  another  stopping-place;  whether  the  actual  end  mn^i 
yet  be  seen. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANOBES. 

THE  wild  orgy  of  the  Indians  of  the  Northwest  United  States 
in  1890--91,  known  as  the  Ghost-Dance,  was  presumably  a 
religious  exercise ;  certainly  that  character  was  claimed  for  it 
by  the  participants. 

This  is  our  church/^  argued  one  of  them;  "just  the  same  as 
the  white  man's  church,  only  we  don't  pass  round  the  hat." 

Whether  this  distinction  was  actually  made  by  the  intelligent 
red  man,  or  was  put  into  his  mouth  by  the  wicked  reporter,  is 
not  the  question  at  issue.  Assuming  that  the  Ghost-Dance  was, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  a  religious  ceremony,  we  have  to  trace 
its  rise  and  spread,  and  the  influence  which  it  has  had  upon  the 
frontier  history  of  the  day. 

The  dance  was  said  by  the  Indians  to  have  been  commanded 
by  the  Messiah  who  had  lately  arisen  for  them.  Various  state- 
ments have  been  made  as  to  the  identity  of  this  individual;  ac- 
cording to  most  accounts,  he  was  a  petty  chief  of  the  Utes,  named 
Johnson  Sides.  But  even  if  the  personality  of  the  alleged  Saviour 
were  agreed  upon,  there  are  variations,  great  and  apparently 
irreconcilable,  in  the  statements  made  as  to  his  character.  One 
authority  represents  him  as  one  of  the  most  diabolical  of  his  race, 
and  a  principal  actor  in  one  of  the  bloodiest  massacres  ever  per- 
petrated west  of  the  Missouri  river.  On  the  other  hand,  an  army 
offioet,  writing  to  Gen.  Miles,  says  that  he  is  known  as  the 
"Peacemaker'^  among  the  Indians  and  whites  of  Nevada,  where 
he  has  lived  for  many  years.    This  officer  continues  : 

"  To  substantiate  his  statement,  he  showed  me  a  medal  which 
he  carried  strung  around  his  neck,  on  which  was  a  legend  to  the 
effect  that  he  was  presented  with  the  medal  by  some  Christiait 
society  for  his  efforts  toward  doing  good  to  his  fellow  men, 
whether  white  or  red.  *  *  *  *  He  told  me  that  he  read  or 
knew  ♦he  Bible ;  that  he  was  desirous  of  making  peace  witii  every 


496 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCEH!?c 


one,  and  that  was  why  he  was  named  Peacemaker  ■ 
I  firmly  believe  that  this  is  the  good-natured  InoliaB  who  L 
caused  all  this  trouble;  that  he  has  taught  jho  r/semfoers  of  M. 
tribe  the  story  of  Christ,  or  the  Messiah,  and  the  Siine  "When  He 
will  once  more  visit  this  earth,  as  it  has  been  anghu  Mm  by  the 
Christian  people  interested  in  his  welfare.  He  has  tolo/ihese  visit  • 
ing  Indians  of  the  paradise  in  store  for  all  people  whe)^  the  Sor 
fehall  once  more  visit  this  earth,  and  the  Indian's  parad?B^  lowhat 
.ever  his  imagination  may  lead  him  to  believe,  th 3  sam    'iFj  the 
white  man's.  He  has  no  doubt  delivered  the  story  ir  itstri?.^  iight 
and  the  Indians  in  re-telling  the  story  have  warpec  and  'J^o^r^^ 
it  according  to  their  understanding/' 

If  these  statements  and  inferences  be  true,  it  will  not  be  diS: 
cult  to  trace  the  whole  thing.    Johnson  Sides,  the  saBgUiBf " 
murderer  in  1878,  had  twelve  years  in  which  to  bec^m-  the 
Peacemaker  of  1890.    When  we  consider  the  part  that  Sitting 
Bull  took  in  more  than  one  massacre  of  the  whites,  and  the  abso 
lute  control  which  the  law  might  afterwards  have  gained  ovei 
him,  we  cannot  object  that  Sides  would  have  been  punished,  had 
he  really  been  one  of  the  perpetrators  of  this  bloody  crime.  He 
might,  in  all  earnestness,  as  the  officer  quoted  has  suggested,  tell 
the  &tory  of  Redemption  to  his  associates,  with  .such  embellish 
ments  as  his  imagination  would  suggest — embellishments  whicL 
would  make  it  more  intelligible  to  them,  but  which  would  speed 
ily  become,  in  their  minds,  the  main  part  of  the  story.  Tho 
promises  of  a  paradise  would  take  such  form  as  they  could  undei 
stand;  and  every  one  who  heard  of  the  ^^good  time  coming' 
would  be  eager  to  spread  the  news.   Then  would  come  the  ques- 
tion : 

Will  not  these  things  be  for  the  white  man,  and  the  Indian  be 
an  outcast,  as  he  is  now?'^ 

~So,"  the  answer  would  be,  they  will  be  for  the  Indian  just 
as  much  as  for  the  white  man." 

After  a  little,  the  share  which  the  Indians  were  to  have  in  the 
paradise  would  be  dwelt  upon  with  more  and  more  emphasis, 
until  the  white  man^s  was  disregarded  ;  the  next  step  would  be, 
that  these  blessings  were  to  be  for  the  Indians,  and  not  for  the 
white  man;  thence  it  is  a  short  and  easy  step  to  the  belief  that 
the  whites  were  to  be  destroyed  to  advance  the  prospects  of  the 
Indians.    Indeed,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  the  Indians  could 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS.  497 


be  bronght  to  believe  that,  if  the  whites  were  left,  the  rodc^  could 
expect  to  receive  their  due  share  of  the  millennial  bleMvngs^ 


SITTJNG  BULL,  CHIEF  OF  THE  SIOUX  INDIANS 


Having  corrupted  the  teaching  thus  far,  the  Indians  were  ready 
to  be  still  further  misled.  The  astute  and  revengeful  chief  of 
the  gr^at  Sioux  tribe,  Sitting  Bull,  saw  here  his  opportunity-; 


498 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


and  it  was  doubtless  due  to  his  eiforts  that  the  tidings  of  the 
Mes&iAh^s  eoming  were  so  wide-spread,  and  a  belief  in  the  prom- 
ises to  the  Indians  so  generally  felt.  The  dance,  which  seems 
to  be  the  natural  expression  for  the  Indlan^s  most  solemn  emo- 
tions, became  less  and  less  that  of  the  devotee,  more  and  more 
that  of  the  brave  before  he  goes  upon  the  war-path.  Finally, 
the  dancers  appeared  in  full  war-paint,  and  the  situation  became 
decidedly  alarming  to  the  whites. 

It  must  always  be  borne  in  mind  that  there  is  a  strong  relig- 
ious element  in  the  Ghost-Dance  itself.  However  it  may  have 
been  spread  by  the  efforts  of  Sitting  Bull  and  others  of  his  kind 
to  advance  their  own  ends,  most  of  those  who  took  part  in  it 
firmly  believed  that  the  wonderful  prophecies  were  to  be  fulfilU 
ed.    What  were  these  prophecies,  and  how  did  they  originate  ? 

According  to  the  answers  to  inquiries  which  were  instituted 
by  the  Superintendent  of  the  Indian  Training  School,  at  Carlisle, 
Pa.,  the  belief  in  the  Messiah  originated  in  Wyoming.  The  wri 
ter  does  not  pretend  to  reconcile  this  with  the  theory  that  John 
son,  a  resident  of  Nevada,  is  the  original  of  the  Messiah.  Two 
Indians  of  the  Northern  Cheyennes  followed  a  mysterious  light 
in  the  heavens  for  eighteen  days.  Their  route  led  through  ^ 
country  wholly  without  water,  but  '^^herever  they  found  it  nee* 
essary  to  halt,  a  little  pool  made  itS  appearance  within  their 
camp,  and  furnished  all  the  water  that  they  needed — not  a  drop 
more.  Finally,  they  came  to  a  secluded  place  near  the  moun^ 
tains,  and  there,  on  the  gentle  slope,  was  a  '^wicky-up^^  of  grass. 
Entering  this,  they  saw  Jesus,  who  told  them  that  he  had  come 
to  the  white  men  once,  and  had  been  crucified  by  them;  but  now 
he  had  come  to  the  Indians,  and  these  two  favored  witnesses 
were  to  return  and  tell  their  brethren  what  they  had  seen. 

The  two  Indians  were  then  caught  up  in  a  cloud,  and  borne 
swiftly  along,  until  they  reached  their  home.  Here  they  related 
what  they  had  seen  ;  the  wounds  made  by  the  nails  and  the  spear 
were  described,  much  stress  was  laid  upon  the  fact  that  the 
Christ  whom  they  had  seen  had  long  hair,  and  it  was  regarded 
as  a  conclusive  proof  of  his  identity  that  he  was  said  to  resem- 
ble the  pictures  in  the  white  men's  Bible.  What  finally  became 
of  Good  Thunder  and  Yellow  Breast,  the  two  Indians  to  whom, 
according  to  the  Sioux,  this  vision  had  been  vouchsafed,  does 
not  appear.    The  Sioux  Chief,  Short  Bull,  became  the  chief 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


prophet  of  this  new  dispensation,  and  claimed  miraculous  pow- 
erSc 

According  to  the  belief  which  obtained  among  the  Indians, 
the  entire  continent  was  to  be  covered  with  a  layer  of  new  soil, 
thirty  feet  deep.  This  would  completely  overwhelm  the  white 
man,  his  railways  and  steamboats,  but  the  Indians  would  be  en- 
abled to  wriggle  up  through  the  mass  of  earth,  and  through  this 
purgatory  reach  the  paradise  prepared  for  them,  where  no  white 
man  would  ever  be  allowed  to  come.  Grass  waist-deep  was  to 
cover  this  new  earth,  and  immense  herds  of  buffalo  and  other 
game  were  to  roam  over  it.  These  preliminaries  being  accom- 
plished, the  spirits  of  the  dead  Indians  were  all  to  return  from 
the  happy  hunting  grounds,  to  enjoy,  with  their  descendants 
and  kinsmen,  the  no  less  blessed  fields  of  earth.  How  the  sup- 
ply of  game  was  to  be  maintained  in  the  face  of  this  vast  horde 
of  hunters,  their  prophets  did  not  say  ;  perhaps  the  deer  and  buf- 
falo were  to  come  to  life  again  each  time  that  they  were  killed 
and  eaten. 

Some  of  the  modern  improvements  were  to  be  added  to  those 
which  their  forefathers  had  enjoyed  ;  each  warrior,  no  matter 
what  his' standing  in  the  tribe,  was  to  be  provided  with  a  horse 
and  wagon.  That  so  great  a  number  should  be  required  was  no 
stumbling-block  to  their  faith  ;  the  needed  outfits  would  be  pro- 
duced by  a  wave  of  the  Messiah's  hand.  Meanwhile,  they  were 
protected  from  their  white  enemies  by  a  power  equally  miracu- 
lous with  that  which  was  to  produce  the  wagons.  The  white 
men  were  speedily  to  lose  the  art  of  making  gunpowder,  and  the 
stock  now  on  hand  would  become  useless.  In  the  hands  of  the 
Indians,  however,  it  appears  that  powder  was  to  retain  its  old 
efficacy;  for  those  who  had  no  firearms  made  every  effort  to  get 
them  ;  a  buck  on  one  occasion  trading  a  horse,  said  to  be  worth 
$75,  for  an  old  gun  which  could  scarcely  be  valued  at  more  than 
f2.  Meanwhile,  until  the  white  man's  powder  should  become 
useless  in  their  hands,  the  Indians  were  to  have  bullet-proof 
shirts.  Some  of  them  tried  to  demonstrate  their  faith  by  firing 
into  these  garments — with  no  one  inside  them  of  course — at 
short  range.  When  the  bullets  penetrated  the  fabric,  they  con- 
soled themselves  with  the  idea  that  their  own  powder  and  bul- 
lets retained  their  old-time  power. 

A  party  of  Indians  started  to  visit  Sitting  Bull,  and  also  to 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


501 


jSnd,  if  possible,  the  new  Messiah.  On  the  road,  one  of  their 
number,  Yellow  Hawk,  informed  his  companions  that  he  had  re- 
ceived instructions  in  a  vision  to  kill  himself,  as  a  test  of  his 
faith,  being  assured  that  he  wonld  be  raised  from  the  dead.  He 
accordingly  committed  suicide;  yet,  when  they  reached  Stand- 
ing Eock  Agenc}^,  they  found  there  Yellow  Hawk,  alive  and 
well;  having  been  raised  from  the  dead  and  miraculously  trans- 
ported to. the  Agency  in  advance  them,  although  they  had 
traveled  with  great  speed. 

Short  Bull  pretended  to  receiN^e  celestial  messages.  On  one 
occasion,  he  declared  that  on  the  previous  night  he  had  seen 
four  stars  fall  from  heaven.  Three  of  them  resumed  their  places 
in  the  skies;  the  fourth  remained  for  a  time  on  earth;  and  has- 
tening toward  the  spot,  he  found  there  a  letter  written  in  Eng- 
lish. Neither  he  or  his  companions  could  read  the  letter;  but 
it  was  nevertheless  believed  to  be  a  message  from  the  Messiah. 
The  fact  that  he  could  not  read  the  messages  when  he  received 
them  does  not  seem  to  have  deterred  this  medicine  man  from 
\^enturing  upon  prophecy. 

About  sixteen  miles  to  the  southeast  of  the  Walker  Eiver 
Agency  buildings  is  an  elevation  known  to  the  whites  as  Mount 
Grant.  On  the  summit  of  this  mountain,  say  the  Indians,  may 
still  be  discerned  the  footprints  of  their  first  father,  for  here  was 
he  placed  when  first  created.  This  mountain  was  to  be  the  scene  of 
the  Messiah's  reappearance,  said  the  new  prophets;  but  the  place 
was  sometimes  fixed  elsewhere.  Finally,  both  time  and  place 
Were  definitely  appointed:  the  long  awaited  Messiah  was  to  ap- 
pear at  Wounded  Knee,  in  the  form  of  a  butfalo,  on  that  day 
tvhich  white  men  call  November  20,  1890.  Though  the  day  pass- 
ed away  without  anything  that  could  be  twisted  into  a  fulfill- 
ment of  the  prophecy  occurring,  Sitting  Bull  and  his  lieutenant 
do  not  seem  to  have  lost  the  confidence  of  their  followers  in  the 
least  degree. 

Having  thus  given  some  slight  account  of  the  belief,  it  remains 
to  describe,  as  far  as  possible,  the  form  of  worship  known  as  the 
Ghost-Dance.  Elsewhere  we  have  described  the  ceremony  call- 
ed the  Sun-Dance,  which  is  a  long-established  custom  of  the 
Sioux.  Writing  in  December,  1890,  Gen.  Howard  says  of  a 
somewhat  similar  but  less  barbarous  ceremony  called  the  Oma- 
ha Dance: 


602 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS* 


"There  seems  to  be  little  difference  between  it  [the  Messian 
or  Ghost-Dance]  and  the  one  we  saw.  The  Indians  were  paint- 
ed from  head  to  foot  with  a  variety  of  designs  upon  their  rhests, 
legs  and  backs.  Their  heads  were  decked  0"'U  with  feathers,  strips 
of  different  colored  cloth,  bits  of  fur  or  other  small  articles, 
combined  to  attract^  attention.  They  had  the  usual  strip  of 
^  manta'  about  the  waist,- and  some  had  on  sashes,  but  otherwise 
they  were  naked.  Their  music  was  the  usual  drumming  and 
singing,  done  mostly  by  outside  bands  who  were  looking  on 
with  delight  and  cheering  their  companions.  The  dancers  kept 
time  with  the  music.  They  had  some  reliefs  when  any  became 
too  tired  to  continue  the  operation,  so  that  the  plot  of  ground 
to  which  they  limited  themselves  was  always  full.  The  grunt- 
ing and  shouting  and  barking  like  coyotes  or  wolves  were  par- 
ticularly exciting  to  the  dancers,  and  somewhat  so  to  the  strang- 
ei'S.  It  seems  that  in  the  ^Messiah-Dance^  they  have  some- 
times added  the  women,  who  were  never  included  in  the  *Oma- 
ba.'^' 

During  the  first  half  of  November,  some  portion  of  the  strange 
and  barbarous  ceremony  was  witnessed  by  a  lady  missionary, 
Miss  M.  0.  Collins.    She  writes  : 

I  have  been  up  to  Sitting  BulTs,  and  the  dance  is  in  full 
blast.  It  is  a  most  terrible  thing — the  old  Sun-Dance  with  a  new 
name.  They  dance  facing  the  sun  as  long  as  possible,  and  fall 
down,  moan,  and  groan,  and  whoop,  and  foam  at  the  mouth  like 
mad  dogs.  They  do  not  yet  cut  their  bodies,  but  that  will  come 
soon.  The  men  all  dress  in  war  dress  and  paint  and  feath- 
ers, and  the  women  also  take  part  and  paint  and  wear  feathers^ 
which  is  a  new  feature — women  never  wear  feathers.  Sitting 
Bull  stayed  in  a  sacred  tent,  and  every  one  entering  the  dance 
ibr  the  first  time  went  into  the  tent  to  be  made  ^wakan,^  and 
painted  with  crescents  on  the  forehead,  cheeks  and  chin,  and  a 
cross  on  the  nose.  I  went  into  the  tent  and  talked  with  the  old 
man.  He  assented  to  everything,  but  promises  nothing;  he  i 
means  war/'' 

About  the  same  time,  a  white  man  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
Ghost-Dance  while  in  progress;  although  the  fears  of  his  guide 
hurried  him  away  before  the  height  of  the  ceremony  had  been 
reached.    The  experience  is  thus  described: 

"  The  Ghost-Dance  seems  to  be  intended  as  a  solemn  cotrfica* 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


503 


tion  to  the  Indian  dead  that  they  are  needed  on  earth  to  help  the 
remnant  of  their  people  exterminate  the  whites  and  seize  their 
own  again.  It  is  also  a  ceremonial  welcome  in  anticipation  of 
the  returning  braves,  and  is  at  the  same  time  a  dirge.  Whether 
the  white  men,  who  are  all  to  die  when  the  Messiah  makes  his 
appearance,  are  mourned  in  advance  in  the  dirge  movement  of 
the  chant  which  is  part  of  the  Ghost-Dance,  seems  hard  to  sur- 
mise. But  the  wild  strains  which  my  half-breed  instructor  said 
foretold  the  red  men^s  final  triumph,  were  certainly  ferocious 
enough  to  satisfy  the  wildest  sensation  lover. 

The  camp  this  friendly  half-breed  led  me  to  spy  upon  is  in  a 
hollow  surrounded  by  low,  bare  hills.  From  summit  to  sum- 
mit across  the  valley  would  perhaps  be  a  mile.  The  wagons  of 
the  braves — many  of  them,  as  farmers  and  freighters,  now  have 
their  horses  and  wagons — are  corralled  in  the  centre  of  the  val- 
ley. A  fringe  of  tents  skirts  the  borders  of  the  camp,  and  a 
score  or  so  of  painted  tepees  are  the  lodging-places  of  the  irrec- 
oncilable old  squaws  and  bucks,  who  have  never  given  in  to 
progressive  notions,  gone  to  wearing  shirts  or  working  like 
white  people.  The  oxen,  bulls  and  cows,  pigs  and  chickens,  is- 
sued to  these  Indians  by  the  Government  for  breeding  purposes 
■ — for  in  the  eye  of  the  law  most  of  them  are  farmers — have  been 
driven  into  the  valley  also,  and  are  lariated  or  cooped  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  camp,  where  they  are  being  killed  and  eaten  at 
a  rapid  rate. 

The  atmosphere  was  damp  and  moist  when,  two  nights  ago, 
my  half-breed  friend  and  I  set  out  for  the  campo  After  an  hour's 
laborious  walk,  and  after  crossing  a  marshy  plain,  the  top  of  the 
hill  to  the  west  of  the  camp  was  reached  about  9  o'clock.  The 
lights  of  the  camp-fire  on  which  the  evening  meal  had  been 
cooked,  were  gradually  allowed  to  die  out,  and  several  old 
squaws  could  be  plainly  seen  moving  in  and  out  among  the  dark- 
ening embers.  About  three  hundred  yards  east  of  the  hill  on  which 
we  were  seated  in  a  clump  of  stunted  evergreens  was  an  open 
space  of  an  acre  in  extent,  toward  which  the  squaws  seemed  now 
urging,  now  driving  the  rest  of  the  band.  Around  the  outer  rim  of 
this  open  space  fires  were  kindled  of  wood  that  seemed  to  have 
been  smudged,  as  there  was  little  or  no  flame,  only  a  dull  red 
glow  and  a  profuse  pale  gray  smoke,  which,  rising  from  all  sides 
at  once,  formed  a  sort  of  canopy  over  the  scene.    Throagb  this 


THE  WAR  MiTli  TJlJi  SIOUX  GilU8T-L'ANCER8. 


505 


cloud,  by  fits  and  starts,  the  old  squaws  could  be  seen  forming 
the  warriors  in  rows  around  the  eastern  edge  of  the  exoanse. 
with  the  younger  bucks  and  squaws  in  rows  behind  them.  The 
warriors  in  the  front  rows  were  kneeling^  the  squaws  lehind 
them  sitting,  and  the  younger  bucks  standing  behind  theri 

^'  Then  the  old  squaws  retired  to  the  western  edge  of  the  open 
ground,  where  they  were  screened  from  observation  by  the 
brush,  and  remained  out  of  sight  for  about  ten  minutes.  l  uring 
this  time  the  picture  was  wild  and  impressive  in  an  unusual  de- 
gree. Seen  by  the  smouldering  light  of  the  fires  built  in  a  long 
oval  about  forty  feet  in  front  of  the  line^  the  warriors,  with  their 
women  and  children  behind  them,  knelt  or  sat  or  stood  in  abso- 
lute silence.  They  were  all  waiting— just  what  for,  the  half- 
breed  on  the  hill  did  not  know.  When  afire  would  burn  up 
too  bright  and  illuminate  too  clearly  the  solemn  group  n^ar  it, 
a  squaw  would  go  and  pull  the  fagots  away  from  the  coals  and 
subdue  the  flames. 

<^When  the  old  squaws  returned  they  joined  hands  and  knelt 
down  in  the  center  of  the  open  space.  They  began  chanting, 
vvhat  sounded  at  first  like  a  death-song,  but  now  and  again  swell- 
ed into  savagely  triumphant  yells.  The  smoke  only  parted  at 
intervals,  and  while  the  chant  was  going  on  )  but  while  the 
strange  scene  was  shut  from  view  the  warriors  advanced  from 
the  ranks,  and,  joining  hands  in  a  larger  circle  around  the  old 
squaws,  began  the  Ghost-Dance.  Their  chant  was  less  shriPj  than 
that  started  by  the  squaws,  and  was  not  so  plainly  heard.  A 
portion  of  it  seemed  lamentation  for  their  dead  ^  then  car:ie  the 
invocation  to  the  dead  to  arise  and  help  their  brethren  exter- 
minate  the  white  men. 

The  squaws  had  not  been  observed  to  leave  the  circle  they 
had  formed,  but  as  the  warrior's  chant  swelled  into  what  the 
half-breed  said  was  the  invocation  to  the  departed  Sioux  to  come 
back  to  earth,  the  old  hags,  one  by  one,  stole  like  shadows  ander 
the  linked  arms  of  the  braves,  each  with  a  burning  stick  in  her 
shriveled  hand,  the  light  from  which  fell  with  gray  ghastjiness 
upon  her  painted  face.  This  light  for  the  first  time  made  visible 
to  the  watchers  the  faces  of  the  braves  themselves,  and  it  was 
now  seen  that  they  were  in  full  war-paint. 

"  The  old  women  passed  through  the  circle  like  a  procession 
of  specters,  each  carrying  a  taper  of  grave-wax  to  light  her  un- 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


accustomed  feet  over  the  rough  surface  of  the  valley.  At  all 
events  that  was  what  their  wild  performance  looked  like  from 
the  hill-top;  and  before  the  procession  had  half  passed  through 
the  circle,  the  smoke  grew  so  thick  and  the  clouds  above  the 
valley  so  dense  that  the  half-breed  spy  declared  the  immediate 
necessity  of  a  return  to  the  agency.  Enough  had  been  seen  of 
the  Ghost-Dance,  which  had  then  fairly  begun,  for  report  says  it 
lasts  well  into  the  morning,  and  indeed  until  everybody  connect- 
vvith  it  is  exhausted,  to  bring  out  clearly  at  least  one  significant 
fact :  and  that  was  that  the  bucks  had  war-paint  on  their  faces. 
*  *  *  Visions  of  the  Happy  Hunting-Grounds  are  seen  in  the 
Ghost-Dance  hy  the  warriors,  who  spin  around  in  a  religious  de- 
lirium until  they  fall  in  a  trance.  In  this  trance  the  ghosts  of 
dead  braves  and  departed  chiefs  are  said  to  come  and  tell  them 
of  the  new  glories  to  crown  the  red  man.  This  by  some  is  said 
to  give  its  name  to  the  dancco" 

But  why  should  a  religious  ceremony,  .-^uch  as  the  Ghost- 
Dance  undoubtedly  was  at  its  inception,  excite  alarm  among  the 
whites?  Why,  unless  because  '^Conscience  does  make  cowards  of 
bs  all  The  white  men  knew  what  reason  the  Sioux  had  to  be 
dissatisfied;  saw  them  gathering  in  bands  united  by  a  common 
belief  in  the  coming  destruction  of  the  white  men,  and  trembled 
lest  that  belief  should,  by  reason  of  its  own  force,  work  out  its 
own  fulfillment. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  Indian  policy  which  has 
been  pursued  by  the  Government,  with  little  variation,  for  a  long 
term  of  years;  perhaps  it  is  founded  on  wisdom  and  worked  out 
with  patience  and  earnest  desire  for  the  Indian's  welfare;  but  it 
is  certain  that  it  has  frequently  brought  about  disastrous  wars 
and  bloody  massacres. 

In  June,  1889,  the  Sioux  signed  a  treaty  ceding  to  the  Govern- 
ment a  part  of  their  reservation;  Gen.  Crook  was  a  member  of 
the  Commission  that  secured  their  signatures  ;  he  had  been  their 
conqueror,  but  he  was  also  their  benefactor  and  friend  ;  and  they 
knew  him  and  believed  in  him  as  such.  He  promised  them  that 
the  Government  would  promptly  pay  them  in  full  for  their  lands; 
but  Gen.  Crook  was  unable  to  secure  the  immediate  fulfillment 
of  the  promises  which  he  had  been  authorized  to  make;  and 
during  the  time  consumed  by  the  law's  delay,"  he  died.  With 
his  death,  the  Sioux  felt  that  they  had  lost  a  trusty  fi^end  j  nor 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


507 


were  they  far  wrong.  Delay  in  passing  the  appropriation  bills 
intensified  their  distrust  of  the  Government,  for  the  usual  ra- 
tions in  1890  were  delayed  far  beyond  the  proper  time.  Their 
crops  had  been  a  partial  failure  in  1888  and  1889;  in  the  suc- 
ceeding year  they  raised  nothing.  At  the  same  time  the  annual 
appropriation  was  cut  down  year  after  year  ;  and  it  was  further 
claimed  that  in  the  census  of  1890  the  enumeration  of  Indians 
was  far  below  the  actual  population  ;  so  that  the  tribes  were,  by 
law,  entitled  to  a  less  amount  of  food  than  before.  Whether 
these  assertions  are  wholly  true  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  there 
was  considerable  distress  among  the  Indians  of  various  agencies 
during  the  year  1890;  enough,  at  least^to  cause  many  of  them  to 
listen  with  eager  ears  to  the  seductions  of  Sitting  Bull  and  his 
accomplices.  Prom  the  columns  of  the  daily  press  we  might  se- 
lect many  proofs  of  this  state  of  affairs;  one  must  be  sufficient. 

"Chicago,  III.,  Dec.  11. — Capt.  C.  H.  Conrad,  in  a  report  re- 
ceived from  Gen.  Miles  to-day,  says  the  seventeen  hundred  In- 
dians at  the  Yankton  Sioux  Agency  are  receiving  rations 
enough  now  for  barely  two  days  out  of  seven,  and  are  starving. 
Crops  have  failed  them  owing  to  the  drought,  and,  though  they 
are  willing  to  work,  there  is  no  employment  obtainable  for  such 
a  number  during  the  winter.  On  ration  day  the  poor  devils, 
many  of  them  old  and  decrepit  of  both  sexes,  are  so  famished 
that  they  cannot  resist  eating  at  once  practically  all  that  they 
may  receive,  notwithstanding  that  another  issue  of  food  is  not 
due  for  a  week.  Captain  Conrad  adds:  ^It  is  a  standing  com- 
plaint that  these  same  Indians  have  $1,750  owing  them  for  rail- 
road right  of  way,  locked  up  in  the  United  States  Treasury,  and 
that  individuals  among  them  are  still  unpaid  for  services  render- 
ed the  Government  as  far  back  as  1862.* 

]S'early  a  month  before  the  date  of  this  dispatch,  Gen.  Miles 
had  estimated  the  number  of  Indians  from  whom  trouble  might 
be  expected,  at  six  thousand  braves;  these,  ho  added,  scattered 
over  several  hundred  miles  of  territory.  Gradually,  however, 
the  force  of  discontented  savages  became  concentrated  in  the 
southern  part  of  South  Dakota,  the  Pine  Eidge  Agency  being 
recognized  as  the  central  point  of  the  territory  which  their 
camps  occupied. 

The  Ghost-Dance  had  been  going  on  for  months  before  aiay 
gemm^l  alarm  was  felt.  Even  after  the  settlers  and  agents  began 


508 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


to  feel  uneasy,  there  was  no  definite  offense  against  the  peace  ot 
which  the  Government  could  take  cognizance.  Even  when  it 
was  known  that  the  Indians  had  on  their  war-paint,  it  was  deci- 
ded that  there  was  no  good  reason  for  interference  with  their 
dancing.  At  last,  however,  after  many  messages  bidding  the 
Indians  to  stop  dancing,  all  of  which  were  disregarded,  it  was  de- 
cided that  the  soldiers  should  surround  and  disarm  the  Indians. 

November  22,  William  McGaa,  formerly  an  Indian  scout,  and 
at  thai  time  a  wealthy  ranchman  living  near  Buffalo  Gap,  started 
to  rido  to  Pine  Eidge  Agency,  two  days'  journey  distant.  He 
enjoyed  a  wide  friendship  among  the  Indians,  and  notwithstand- 
ing tho  rumors  with  which  the  country  was  filled,  had  no  hesi- 
tation about  asking  shelter  for  the  night  at  a  village  situated 
nbout  midway  of  his  journey.  He  lay  down  to  sleep  in  a  tepee 
^ull  Indians,  without  thought  of  personal  danger.  He  no- 
ticed, however,  that  all  the  warriors  were  fully  armed;  and 
although  he  afterwards  professed  that  he  had  no  fear  for  him- 
self, be  feigned  sleep  and  kept  his  ears  open  during  the  early 
part  cf  the  night.  Two  weary  hours  passed,  and  he  was  wrap- 
ed  in  bis  cloak,  to  all  appearance  fast  asleep.  One  of  the  bucks 
bent  over  him,  fearful  lest  he  might  be  pretending  ;  but  so  clev- 
erly did  McGaa  imitate  the  breathing  of  a  man  in  deepest  slum- 
ber, that  the  Indian  was  reassured,  and  turning  to  his  compan- 
ions, told  them  that  all  was  well.  It  may  readily  be  believed 
that  this  did  not  make  McGaa  the  more  inclined  to  sleep;  but 
^very  sense  was  on  the  alert  to  catch  the  purport  of  the  whisper- 
ed conversation  which  they  carried  on. 

A  considerable  force  of  troops  had  been  rtationed  at  Pine 
Eidge^  under  Gen.  Brooke,  to  watch  the  Ghost-Dancers  in  the 
surrounding  country.  About  sixteen  and  a  half  miles  north  of 
that  station,  the  White  Horse  Creek  empties  into  the  Wounded 
-Knee.  Here  there  is  a  rude  amphitheater  formed,  the  only 
practicable  path  to  which  is  a  road  along  the  banks  of  the  White 
Horse  Creek.  This  road  is  bordered  by  dense  clumps  of  trees, 
which  also  line  the  other  side  of  the  creek.  The  Indians'  plan 
was  to  have  a  Ghost-Dance  in  the  amphitheater,  conducted  in 
such  V.  way  as  to  tempt  the  troops  from  the  agency  to  stop 
it.  The  woods  were  to  be  filled  with  Indians,  who  were  to  lie 
in  ambush  until  the  troops  had  advanced  along  the  forest  road, 
and  well  into  the  amphitheater;  when  &-  simultaneous  attack 


THE  WAH  VVrrn   THK  8I0LX  GH0SI-DANCER8. 


509 


VuTfi  the  (lancing  braves  and  from  their  hidden  eomp&n^ong 
Yould  result  in  the  utter  destruction  of  the  soldiers. 

Confident  that  McGaa  was  wholly  ignorant  of  their  plot  they 
.illowed  him  to  depart  in  safety  in  the  morning,  and  he  rode  on 
10  l^iiie  Eidge,  where  the  plot  was  unfolded  to  Gen.  Brooke.  The 
force  available  was  not  sufficient  to  justify  that  officer  in  (  rder- 
ing  an  attack  upon  the  woods  where  the  Indians  were  to  lie  con- 
i-iealed,  for  the  odds  in  such  a  fight  would  be  very  great  in  favor 
of  the  red  men  ;  therefore  it  was  decided  to  ignore  the  dancing 
vhich  might  go  on  at  the  mouth  of  White  Horse  Creek, 


CONCENTKATING  INFANTRY  AT  THE  SEAT  OF  WAR. 


But  this  incident  showed  the  real  spirit  of  the  Indians,  and 
every  day  confirmed  the  belief  which  had  been  growing  up 
through  months,  and  which  Miss  Collins,  the  missionary  above 
quoted,  had  expressed,  when  she  said  of  Sitting  Bull, he  means 
war/' 

Buffalo  Bill  undertook  to  settle  the  afPair  by  negotiations  with 
the  Indians,  and  arrived  at  Standing  Eock  Agency  for  that  pur- 
pose about  the  close  of  November.  From  this  point  he  set  out  to 
visit  Sitting  Bull,  attended  by  only  two  faithful  companions,  and 
attired  in  evening  costume.  What  especial  appropriateness  there 
was  in  a  swallow-tail  coat  and  patent-leather  shoes,  does  not  ap- 


510 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANGERS. 


pear;  and  Oody  was  serioiasly  ill  for  sora@  days  after  his  ride  in 
cons«q«eno@  of  riding  so  far,  in  ^old  weather,  in  such  thin  gar- 
ments*  He  set  out  with  the  intention  of  arresting  Sitting  BuH; 
but  had  gone  but  six  hours  when  this  was  discovered  by  the 
agent,  who  promptly  sent  men  in  pursuit  of  him  to  prevent  any 
sueh  attempt.  It  would,  indeed,  as  after  events  proved,  have 
been  simple  madness;  for,  according  to  the  Indians  themselves, 
they  were  stronger,  numerically,  and  better  equipped  than  they 
had  been  at  any  time  since  the  Custer  massacre.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  fact  that  his  plans  were  thus  changed,  Buffalo  Bill  press- 
ed on  toward  Sitting  BulTs  camp,  and  had  a  talk  with  the  old 
chief  and  with  many  of  his  followers. 

^'  Sitting  Bull  gave  us  this  fine  weather,^'  one  of  them  informed 
him,  confidently.  (The  autumn  of  1890  was  an  exceptionally  fine 
one.) 

^^I  will  send  you  snow  inside  of  twenty-four  hours,"  declared 
Bufi'alo  Bill,  sternly,  with  a  firm  reliance  upon  his  own  ability 
as  a  weather-prophet.   The  forecast  was  a  true  one,  and  the  con 
fidence  of  at  least  one  Indian  in  the  powers  of  Sitting  Bull  re- 
ceived a  severe  shock. 

The  Grovernmenthad  decided  upon  a  short,  decisive,  aggressive 
campaign.  Agents  were  ordered  to  peremptorily  stop  the  dancing 
and  arrest  the  ringleaders,  especially  Sitting  Bull.  One  trouble 
in  dealing  with  the  Indians  has  always  been  that  they  are  ah 
lowed  to  keep  their  tribal  relations;  each  tribe  is  organize^ 
under  a  number  of  petty  or  sub-chiefs,  and  one  head-chief;  ead^ 
tribe  is  practically  a  standing  army,  ready  to  take  the  field 
whenever  its  commander-in-chief  shall  give  the  word ;  far  read- 
ier than  the  standing  armies  of  most  civilized  nations,  which  re- 
quire time  to  collect  their  baggage  and  transport  their  artillery 
to  the  scene  of  action.  The  Indians'  whole  force  consists  of 
light  cavalry;  he  expects  to  live  off  the  stores  of  the  enemy;  if 
they  cannot  be  obtained,  he  knows  how  to  go  hungry;  but  ex- 
pericBce  shows  that  he  very  frequently  is  fed  at  the  expense  of 
Uncle  Sam  even  when  engaged  in  war  against  him. 

The  Indians,  of  course,  speedily  learned  what  determination 
had  been  reached  at  Washington  ;  and  as  the  troops  began  to 
gather  at  Pine  Eidge,  Little  Wound,  chief  of  the  Ogallalas,  sent 
the  following  letter  to  the  agent,  Dr.  Eoyer: 

"  Dr.  Eoyer  :  I  understand  that  the  soldiers  have  come  on 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


511 


the  yerservation.  What  have  they  come  for?  We  have  done 
nothing".  Our  dance  is  a  religious  dance,  and  we  are  going  to 
dance  till  spring.  If  we  find  then  that  the  Christ  does  not  ap- 
pear,  we  will  stop  dancing;  but  in  the  meantime,  troops  or  lio 
troops,  we  shall  start  our  dance  on  this  creek  in  the  morning. 
I  have  also  understood  that  I  was  not  to  be  recognized  as  chief 
anj  longer.  All  that  I  have  to  say  is  that  neither  you  nor  the 
white  people  made  me  a  chief,  and  you  can't  throw  me  away  as 
you  please.  But  let  me  tell  you,  Dr.  Eoyer,  that  the  Indians 
made  me  a  chief,  and  by  them  I  will  be  recognized  so  long  as  I 
live.  We  have  been  told  that  you  intend  to  stop  our  rations  and' 
annuities.  Well,  for  my  part  I  don't  care.  The  little  rations  we 
get  do  liot  amount  to  anything.  But,  Dr.  Eoyer,  if  such  is  the 
ease,  please  send  me  vrc,rd,  so  that  me  and  my  people  will  be 
saved  the  trouble  of  going  to  the  agency.  We  do  not  intend  to 
stop  dancing/' 

Meanwhile,  the  number  of  Indians  about  the  agency  increased, 
although  the  officer  in  command  was  not  assured  of  the  positior. 
which  some  of  them  really  occupied.  The  real  sentiments  of 
old  Eed  Cloud,  for  instance,  was  a  matter  of  uncertainty,  al- 
though his  son  glibly  protested  that  the  Ghost-Dance  was  to  the 
Indians  nothing  more  than  what  the  white  men  call  a  revival; 
that  they  had  no  intention  of  fighting  ;  and  that  he  himself  was 
a  strong  friend  of  the  whites,  and  would  resolutely  oppose  any 
efforts  which  bad  Indians  might  make  to  resist  the  soldiers;—^ 
for  young  Eed  Cloud  was  asserted  to  be  one  of  the  readiest  and 
most  accomplished  liars  that  ever  laid  claim  to  the  title  of  Indian 
warrior. 

The  uncertainty  which  beset  the  soldiers  in  dealing  with  this 
tricky  foe  may  be  realized  when  we  read  that  within  a  few  days 
after  writing  the  defiant  letter  which  has  been  above  quoted, 
Little  Wound  sent  word  to  Dr.  Eoyer  to  know  if  he  wanted  him 
to  come  into  the  agency  and  get  his  rations.  Dr.  Royer  replied, 
diplomatically,  that  Little  Wound  could  eome  if  he  wanted  to; 
but  th*s  was  not  the  cordial  invitation  which  the  chief  wanted; 
and  the  :igency  was  without  his  presence  for  some  time  longer. 

The  concentration  of  troops  at  Pine  Eidge  seemed  for  a  time 
to  have  a  salutary  effect  upon  the  hostile  Indians  near  by;  but 
shortly  afterward  the  alarm  was  raised  that  the  hostiles  were  re- 
treating  to  the  "  Bad  Lands,"  a  large  traet  of  rugged,  mountain^ 


THE  WAR  WITH  TPIE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


ous  country  in  the  vicinity,  where,  by  means  of  paths  known 
only  to  themselves,  they  could  reach  fastnesses  inaccessible  tc 
the  troops,  and  furnishing  an  abundance  of  grass  and  water,  de- 
spile  the  season,  for  their  ponies.  Thence  they  could  issue  at 
their  pleasure,  destroying  all  that  came  in  their  way.  These 
forobodings,  however,  proved  to  be,  to  a  large  extent,  ground- 
less; some  few  bands  indeed  made  their  way  to  these  fastnesses, 
but  the  majority  of  the  hostiles  remained  about  Pine  Eidge,  ap- 
parently waiting  to  be  coaxed  to  come  in.  A  few  days  after 
his  message  of  inquiry,  Little  Wound  concluded  to  accept  the  in- 
vitation so  ungraciously  given,  and  came  in,  bringing  word  tha.t 
Short  Bull  himself  was  on  the  way  thither. 

liovember  80,  Gen.  Miles  reached  Washington,  to  consult  with 
G-ea.  Schciield  and  the  Secretary  of  War  about  the  Indian 
troubles.  As  a  result  of  the  conference,  it  was  resolved  to  in- 
crease the  rations  of  the  Sioux  to  the  amount  allowed  in  1887. 
It  ^^as  thought  that  this  would  tend  to  uniting  those  Indians  who 
were  somewhat  wavering,  more  firmly  to  the  side  of  the  Gov- 
ern ment;  that  those  who  could  not  be  bribed  by  the  prospect 
of  more  food  would  be  alarmed  by  the  reinforcements  which 
were  to  be  sent  to  the  JTorthwest,  and  that  then  the  ringleaders 
could  be  arrested  with  safety,  and  the  whole  conspiracy  broken 
up.  For  the  present,  the  order  to  arrest  Sitting  Bull  and  the 
other  hostile  chiefs  was  suspended.  This  new  policy  had  its 
prospects  of  success  increased  somewhat  by  a  blizzard  which 
swept  over  the  country  of  the  dancers  about  that  time,  in  ac* 
cordance  with  the  prediction  of  Buffalo  Bill  above  recorded. 

But  the  lull  was  of  short  duration.  News  came  that  the  Indi- 
ans who  had  fled  to  the  Bad  Lands,  were  busy  fortifying  their 
already  strong  position;  for  they  had  great  stores  of  stolen  pro- 
visions to  last  them  through  the  winter  campaign,  and  feared 
an  assault  by  the  troops  which  would  result  in  the  capture  of 
these  stores. 

While  matters  were  in  this  shape,  Gen.  Brooke  requested 
Father  Jutz,  a  priest,  who  was  utterly  careless  of  his  own  safety 
when  a  question  of  doing  good  was  concerned,  to  go  out  to  the 
hostile  camp  and  talk  with  the  chiefs  with  a  view  of  making 
peace.  Leaving  the  agency  at  noon  of  the  3rd  of  December,  ac- 
companied only  by  Jack  Eed  Cloud,  the  priest  mistook  the  way^ 
and  the  two  wandered  about  all  night,  the  weather  being  so  bit- 


• 


THE  VTAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  ^HISST-BaNCERS. 


513 


cc'  i  that  they  were  compelled  to  va&xo  briskly  to  keep  from 
freezing  to  death.  The  hostile  eamp  was  reached  about  eleven 
o'clock  tht  next  mornings  and  aftei^  being  peremptorily  chal* 

lenged,,  the  iv'^iest  and  his  companion  T7ere  escorted  by  heiwilj 


1 


From  liAitpjixi  y  \VESiCLy.  Copyri'ht,  1S9<X  by  Harper  k  Brothers. 


AMERICAN  HOESE. 

armed  guards  to  the  presence  of  the  chiefs,  Two  Strike,  Short 
Bull,  Turning  Boar,  High  Hawk,  Crow  Dog,  Kicking  Bear,  Eagle 
Pipe,  Big  Turkey  and  High  Pipe.  When  Father  Jutz  had  asked 
these  chiefs  of  euphonious  titles  what  wore  the  gricTances  which 
had  led  them  to  put  themselves  in  their  hostile  attitude,  one  of 
them  answered  for  the  rest: 


514 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


"The  Great  Father  has  done  another  wrong.  He  has  put  a 
new  line — a  new  boundary  line  between  Eosebud  and  Pine 
Eidge  Agency,  that  makes  many  of  us  leave  our  homes  and 
give  them  to  others.  The  Great  Father  broke  the  old  treaty 
when  he  did  this.  We  can  no  longer  believe  the  Great  Father. 
He  says  to  us  :  'Children,  you  shall  never  be  moved  again  unless 
you  want  to  move,'  and  then  he  goes  right  away  and  moves  us. 
We  are  done  with  promises;  and  now  we  make  a  promise  that 
iwe  will  fight,  and  the  Great  Father  will  find  that  we  do  not 
break  our  promise.  We  will  now  be  very  plain  with  you, 
Christian  father,  and  tell  you  another  thing,  something  of  which 
you  have  already  thought,  perhaps.  It  is  this:  We  are  not 
coming  in  now,  and  will  not  lay  down  our  rifles,  because  we  are 
afraid  of  the  consequences.  We  have  done  wrong — we  know  it. 
If  we  stop  now,  we  will  be  punished.  The  Great  Father  will 
send  many  of  us  to  his  big  iron  house  to  stay  many  moons,  and 
we  would  die.  No,  we  will  not  go  in  and  give  up.  We 
know  the  Great  Father  better  than  he  knows  us,  or  cares  to  know 
us." 

This  speech  does  not  appear  to  have  voiced  the  unanimous 
sentiment  of  the  warriors  ;  the  older  men  at  last  admitted  that 
to  surrender  would  be  the  wiser  course;  and  there  came  near 
being  a  quarrel  which  would  probably  have  resulted  in  the 
death  of  the  envoy,  at  least.  Finally,  however,  after  being  re^ 
quired  to  swear  most  solemnly  that  he  had  delivered  Gen, 
Brooke's  message  truthfully,  he  was  promised  that  a  delegation 
of  the  chiefs  would  come  to  his  house,  about  four  miles  from  the 
agency,  for  a  conference  with  the  officer  in  command.  Thus  was 
the  dangerous  mission  happily  accomplished. 

After  the  conference  with  Gen.  Brooke,  the  chiefs  returned  to 
state  the  results  to  their  followers  and  companions.  Short 
Bull  and  the  three  other  chiefs,  who  had  sworn  to  attend  the 
conference,  had  broken  their  oath  aud  remained  away;  and 
when  Two  Strike  and  his  companions  returned,  there  was  a 
fierce  discussion,  which  ended  in  an  appeal  to  arms.  There  was 
a  battle  in  which  several  were  killed,  and  a  final  division  of  the 
hos^le  forces,  under  the  leadership,  respectively,  of  Two  Strike 
and  Short  Bull. 

The  forces  under  the  command  of  the  latter  chief  at  once  set 
out  fcr  the  Bad  Lands,  where  they  were  sure  of  being  enabled 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-BANCERS.  516 


to  hold  the  whites  at  bay  for  an  indefinite  length  of  time.  It 
was  supposed  that  they  would  seek  some  reservation  in  North- 
ern Dakota,  or  else  cross  the  line  to  Canada.  Fifty  lodges  and 
a  band  of  stolen  ponies  were  with  them.  Pursuit  was  hastily 
determined  upon.  A  troop  of  cavalry  and  a  detachment  of  in* 
fantry  were  sent  along  the  line  of  the  Northern  Pacific  to  head 
them  otf;  while  Lieut.  Casey,  with  his  Indian  scouts  and  a  sec- 
ond troop  of  cavalry,  took  another  route.  Besides  this.  Two 
Strike,  having  appealed  for  assistance,  three  hundred  friendly 
Indians,  not,  however,  formally  enrolled  as  scouts  or  police, 
were  sent  to  his  assistance,  with  orders  to  pursue  and  bring  into 
camp  the  two  chiefs  and  their  followers,  dead  or  alive.  This 
was  done  at  the  instance  of  American  Horse,  Big  Road,  and  Lit- 
tle Wound,  with  whom  Gen.  Brooke  conferred  upon  receipt  of 
the  request. 

It  has  been  noted  that  the  order  for  the  arrest  of  Sitting  Bui! 
and  other  ringleaders  iu  the  movement  had  been  suspended  until! 
the  effect  of  the  other  portions  of  the  new  policy  could  be  seen.. 
It  became  clear,  in  the  space  often  days  after  this  policy  was 
determined  upon,  that  neither  by  a  more  plentiful  supply  ol 
food  nor  by  the  fear  induced  by  the  presence  of  more  troop$ 
could  the  more  resolute  of  the  hostile  Indians  be  brought  to 
yield.  The  order  for  the  arrest  of  the  chief  was  accordingly  ra 
newed;  and  a  force  of  forty  Indian  police,  supported  by  two 
troops  of  cavalry,  left  Standing  Eock  Agency  for  Sitting  BulF^ 
camp,  on  Grand  River,  forty  miles  away. 

It  had  been  reported  at  the  agency  that  Sitting  Bull  had 
struck  his  tepees  and  was  about  to  join  the  hostiles,  who  had 
been  pillaging  and  burning  along  the  White  Biver.  When  thu 
police  first  came  in  sight  of  the  camp,  it  was  evident  that  the 
report  had  not  been  false;  the  camp  was  on  the  point  of  moving. 

They  had  set  out  at  1  :  45  A.  M.,  Sunday,  December  14, 
and  encamped  near  Sitting  BulFs  village  that  night.  Dawn 
showed  that  most  of  the  tepees  had  been  struck  during  the  night, 
and  they  saw  plainly  that  the  war-ponies  had  been  painted,  and 
that  the  warriors  were  stripped  for  the  war-path.  Taking  no 
note  of  these  indications,  however,  they  went  boldly  into  the, 
village  and  announced  to  Sitting  Bull  their  object  in  coming 
He  professed  his  readiness  to  accompany  them,  for  he  was  al 
ways  ready  to  promise  what  was  desired ;  but  added  that 


51B 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS, 


must  be  allowed  to  make  some  preparations  before  his  depar- 
ture. They  agreed  to  this.  He  gave  orders  that  his  horse 
should  be  made  ready,  and  while  he  was  engaged  in  other  prep- 
arations in  the  tent,  two  of  his  captors,  Bull  Head  and  Shave 
Head,  stood  guard  over  him.  Suddenly  there  was  a  howl  with- 
out the  tent ;  it  was  the  voice  of  Sitting  Bull's  wife,  lamenting 
her  lord.  At  once,  as  if  it  had  been  a  signal  for  which  they  had 
waited,  two  braves,  wrapped  in  blankets,  entered  the  tent ;  and 
almost  before  the  quick-sighted  enemies  of  their  own  race  saw 
that  they  were  there^  had  flung  the  enveloping  blankets  aside 
and  begun  to  fire  upon  the  police.  Instantly  the  shots  werd 
echoed  from  all  the  camp.  Sitting  Bull  had  sprung  upon  his 
horse,  and  would  have  dashed  away  up  the  river,  but  he  was 
surrounded  by  the  police  and  compelled  to  remain  in  theii 
midst. 

This  movement,  so  quickly  executed,  was  a  surprise  to  th^ 
Sioux;  they  had  not  expected  their  wily  old  chief  to  fall  into  the 
enemy's  hands.  But  almost  instantly  they  recovered  them^ 
selves,  and  Black  Bird,  the  stalwart  son  of  the  captive  chief,  call 
ed  upon  them  to  rescue  his  father.  The  women  and  childrei? 
hid  fearfully  behind  the  bushes  with  which  the  camp  was  sur 
rounded,  while  the  braves  dashed  forward  after  the  retreating: 
captors.  It  was  four  to  one,  but  the  police  manfully  faced  the 
foe,  determined  to  carry  their  prisoner  off  with  them.  There 
was  a  furious  fusilade  from  both  sides;  now  an  officer  fell ;  now 
one  of  his  men;  now  a  painted  brave  on  the  other  side.  Sitting 
Bull,  who  was  not  shackled,  shouted  out  orders  to  his  men^ 
which  could  be  heard  even  above  the  din  of  the  conflict.  Sud- 
denly a  ball  struck  him;  still  he  sat  erect  in  his  saddle,  for  it 
was  only  a  wound  in  the  shoulder.  The  blood  dyes  the  rude 
travesty  of  a  uniform  in  which  he  is  arrayed,  but  he  pays  no  at- 
tention to  it.  Through  the  smoke  of  the  rifles,  his  clear,  strong 
eyes  see  the  tall,  muscular  form  of  a  warrior  of  his  own  band 
fall  to  the  earth;  it  is  his  son,  Black  Bird,  who  had  first  urged 
the  others  to  rescue  him.  There  is  a  deadlier  hatred  than  ever 
in  his  voice  and  heart  as  he  gives  his  next  order.  Still  the  fight 
goes  on.  So  far  were  the  police  outnumbered  by  the  band  whose 
leader  they  have  captured,  that  one  of  their  number,  at  the  first 
shot,  has  galloped  off  to  give  the  alarm  to  the  cavalrj'-.  Now  and 
then,  through  the  noise  of  the  shots,  can  be  heard  the  thunder- 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


517 


ous  tread  of  the  horses'  feet,  as  they  gallop  steadily  onward, 
coming  nearer  and  nearer,  until  they  seem  to  shake  the  earth. 
Before  they  have  reached  the  scene,  however,  the  great  chief 
reels  in  his  saddle.  No  one  knows,  no  one  will  ever  know, 
whether  the  shot  came  from  friend  or  foe, for  the  bullets  fell  like 
hail  in  that  mad  melee;  but  it  has  pierced  the  heart.  Sitting 
Bull  has  been  killed. 

The  cavalry  brought  up  machine  guns;  and  the  soldiers, 
throwing  out  a  skirmish  line,  kneeled  and  fired  into  the  enemy's 
camp,  while  the  Hotchkiss  and  G-atlings  fired  over  their  heads 
at  the  same  living  targets.  For  an  hour  and  a  half  the  fight 
continued;  the  hostiles  sheltering  themselves  as  opportunity 
offered,  behind  the  remains  of  their  village  and  in  the  sur- 
rounding brush.  Then  the  firing  ceased ;  the  braves  had  fled, 
leaving  their  lodges  and  their  families  behind  them  to  the  mercy 
of  the  victors. 

Occasionally  during  the  day,  there  would  be  a  stray  shot  from 
the  shelter  of  the  bushes,  but  that  was  all.  Sitting  Bull's  band 
had  fled  towards  the  Bad  Lands,  whither  they  were  steadily 
pursued  by  the  cavalry;  while  the  Indian  scouts  conveyed  the 
body  of  the  chief,  and  those  of  their  comrades  who  had  fallen, 
back  to  the  agency. 

The  chief  who  thus  perished  had  long  been  the  leader  of  the 
discontented  and  hostile  among  the  Sioux.  At  the  time  of  his 
death  Sitting  Bull  was  between  fifty  and  fifty-five  years  of  age, 
Of  his  parentage,  nothing  is  known ;  he  is  said  by  some  to  have 
been  a  half-breed  Uncapapa ;  he  signed  the  treaty  of  1868  as  an 
Ogallala ;  and  some  have  asserted  that  he  was  a  white  child, 
adopted  into  the  tribe  after  some  massacre  in  which  his  relatives 
perished.  His  complexion  was  light  enough  to  confirm  the 
theory  that  he  was  not  a  full-blooded  Indian,  and  his  hair  was 
brown.  He  was  of  fine  physique,  although  he  had  suffered  from 
disease,  as  was  shown  by  the  small-pox  scars  which  covered 
his  face. 

Ta-tan-kah-yo-tan-kah,  as  he  was  called  among  the  Sioux,  has 
been  from  his  early  manhood  a  daring  and  successful  warrior. 
Twenty  years  before  his  death,  he  had  slain  enemies  of  all  de- 
scriptions, men,  women  and  children,  soldiers,  Indians,  team- 
sters, frontiersmen,  railroad  hands  and  mail-carriers;  he  had 
proved  himself  "  one  of  the  ablest  horse-thieves  the  country  ev- 


THE  WAB,  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


519 


er  produced/'  and  as  leader  of  the  Strong  Hearts,  a  Sioux 
brotherhood  for  making  war,  he  led  attacks  upon  two  Crow  vil- 
lages, in  one  of  which  thirty  scalps  were  taken. 

Although  not  a  chief  of  any  particular  prominence  during 
times  of  peace,  this  reputation  made  him  a  favorite  leader  for 
all  the  discontented  Sioux,  whether  they  were  regular  bad 
Indian,''  or  semi-civilized  reds  who  slipped  away  from  the  agen- 
cies for  a  little  sport  with  the  unruly  of  the  tribe. 

Of  the  Custer  massacre  we  need  not  here  speak  ;  it  is  suflScient 
to  note  that,  the  year  before  that  catastrophe  occurred,  the  In- 
terior Department  classed  together  '^Sitting  Bull's  band  and  all 
other  wild  and  lawless  bands."  For  four  months  after  the 
slaughter  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  Sitting  Bull  managed  to  evade 
or  defy  the  troops;  then,  after  a  desperate  and  fruitless  attack 
on  a  large  wagon-train,  he  made  propositions  for  peace.  The 
*  chief,  however,  refused  to  submit  to  the  terms  offered,  and  a 
battle  ensued,  in  which  the  Indian  forces  were  routed  and  chased 
for  forty  miles.  Sitting  Bull  with  his  own  band  escaped,  only 
to  suffer  more  defeats  during  the  remainder  of  the  fall  and  win- 
ter. In  April,  1877,  most  of  the  Sioux  chiefs  who  had  not  al- 
ready done  so,  surrendered  to  Gen.  Miles;  but  Sitting  Bull,  un- 
conquerable, fled  into  British  America.  Here  he  was  joined  by 
Chief  Gall  and  others. 

Sitting  Bull  and  his  party  were  visited  by  a  commission,  the 
object  of  which  was  to  induce  them  to  return  to  the  United 
States.  They  declared  their  intention  of  having  nothing  more 
to  do  with  a  Government  which  ^'  had  made  fifty-two  treaties 
with  the  Sioux,  and  broken  every  one  of  them,"  and  announced 
that  they  intended  to  become  subjects  of  the  Queen.  They  soon 
found,  however,  that  the  Canadian  Government  would  protect 
them,  but  declined  to  feed  them;  and  even  this  protection  was 
given  conditionally ;  there  were  to  be  no  depredations  across 
the  line.  Now  and  then  a  warrior  would  conclude  to  come  back 
to  the  more  generous  United  States,  and  Sitting  Bull's  band  de- 
creased by  this  means  until  but  forty-five  men  remained.  Then 
he  saw  that  he,  too,  must  return,  and  July  20,  1881,  surrendered 
at  Fort  Buford.  He  was  held  as  a  prisoner  for  some  time,  but 
finally  allowed  to  go  back  to  the  reservation;  where  he  improv- 
ed his  time  by  planning  war  upon  the  Government  which  bad 
thus  generously  released  him. 


620 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


It  has  frequently  been  asserted  that  Sitting  Bull  was  not  a 
war-chief;  that  he  was  in  reality  rather  a  medicine-man.  If 
those  who  hold  this  belief  care  to  study  his  history  in  detail, 
they  will  perhaps  be  convinced  that  he  was  born  a  fighter,  and 
was  long  an  acknowledged  leader  in  the  wars  of  his  people. 

The  result  of  the  chiefs  death,  for  a  time,  seemed  doubtful.  It 
might  produce  the  desired  effect  of  intimidating  the  hostiles, 
and  preventing  further  defiance  of  orders.  The  fact  that  he  had 
been  killed  ought  to  show  them  how  little  his  medicine^' 
against  the  bullets  of  the  white  man  was  worth,  and  thus  under- 
mine their  faith  in  what  he  had  taught  them.  On  the  other 
hand,  however,  they  had  ©ome  to  believe  that  death  could  have  no 
real,  lasting  power  over  him  ;  and  it  had  been  prophesied  that 
when  he  was  killed  by  a  white  man,  he  would  return  as  their 
Messiah,  to  lead  them  to  victory  against  their  enemies.  In  such 
wise  had  he  perverted  the  simple,  though  mistaken  faith  in  the 
Christ  in  whom  they  had  at  first  believed. 

The  death  of  Sitting  Bull  was  announced  to  the  Indians  in  full 
council  at  the  agency;  but  they  made  no  demonstration  one  way 
or  the  other;  he  was  a  bad  Indian,  they  said,  somewhat  indifi"er- 
ently;  he  had  been  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble;  and  it  was  a 
good  thing  that  he  had  been  killed.  Indeed,  the  only  persons 
^ho  seemed  really  to  regret  his  death  were  the  members  of  a 
philanthropic  society,  at  a  safe  distance  from  his  tribe^s  coun- 
try ;  they  prepared  a  resume  of  his  adventures,  stigmatized 
some  of  Custer's  victories  as  mere  massacres,  and  wound  up  with 
declaring  their  belief  that  Sitting  Bull  perished  as  a  martyr  by 
the  hands  of  assassins.  Of  course,  there  are  two  sides  to  every 
story  ;  and  in  their  eyes  Sitting  Bull  was  quite  a  Fenimore 
Cooper  style  of  Indian.  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  the  Indians 
have  been  badly  treated  by  the  whites  of  this  country,  from  the 
time  of  the  first  settlers,  who  cheated  them  in  trade  and  taught 
them  to  drink  fire-water,  until  now  ;  humanity,  justice,  and  wis- 
dom have  been  conspicuously  absent  from  our  dealings  with 
them  ;  and  weak-minded  sentimentality  is  not  without  excuse 
when  it  points  to  some  instances  in  which  an  Indian  has  been  on 
the  losing  side,  and  cries:  ^'The  responsibility  for  the  evil  that 
has  been  wrought  by  this  man's  hand  lies  with  those  who  helped 
to  make  him  what  he  was.'' 

The  cavalry  was  not  without  success  in  its  pursuit  of  the  foi- 


THE  WAR  WITH  TiJK  oxOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


521 


lowers  of  Sitting  Bull;  some  of  them  had  surrendered  shortly 
after  the  chiefs  death,  believing  defeat  inevitable;  others  were 
captured  within  a  short  time,  until,  before  the  chief  had  been 
dead  a  week,  it  was  estimated  that  not  more  than  twenty-five  of 
his  immediate  followers  wero  at  large.  Dispatches  now  began 
to  assume  a  more  hopeful  tone ;  the  band  of  Big  Foot,  one  of  the 
most  defiant  and  threatening  of  the  hostile  chiefs,  was  taken 
and  disarmed;  and  the  hostiles  in  the  Bad  Lands  would  soon 
be  so  completely  surrounded  that  they  would  be  forced  to  sur- 
render. As  is  frequently  the  case  in  accounts  of  Indian  wars, 
the  good  news  had  to  be  taken  with  some  reservations.  As  a 
fact,  Big  Foot  and  his  band  had  not  been  disarmed  as  thorough- 
ly as  the  dispatches  had  indicated  ;  in  truth,  it  can  scarcely  be 
said  that  they  were  held  as  captives  ;  they  had  surrendered,  but 
Col.  Sumner,  the  officer  commanding  the  cavalry  force  which 
had  received  their  submission,  contented  himself  with  posting  a 
strong  guard  about  their  village.  It  was  sufficient  for  the  pur- 
pose of  guarding  any  well-regulated  prisoners  of  war;  but  he 
Was  now  dealing  with  Indians;  and  one  crisp  and  cold  Decem- 
ber morning  he  awoke  to  find  the  village  suspiciously  quiet.  Nor 
did  Big  Foot  come  to  report,  as  he  had  been  ordered  to  do ;  the 
feoloneFs  suspicions  were  increased,  and  he  directed  an  investi- 
gation. He  ordered  a  march  to  the  village,  and  entered  it, 
only  to  find  that  the  Indians,  men,  women  and  children,  had 
slipped  through  his  fingers  in  the  night.  The  order  for  pursuit 
was  at  once  given.  There  was  a  forced  march,  followed  by  a 
night's  encampment  in  a  position  so  dangerously  near  the 
ground  known  to  be  tenanted  by  the  hostiles  that  the  troops 
dared  not  light  a  fire,  although  the  water  in  the  creeks  was  froz- 
en to  the  bottom,  and  three  inches  of  snow  lay  on  the  ground. 
The  snow  had  fallen  during  their  march,  so  that  it  was  of  no  use 
in  tracing  the  path  of  the  Indians.  The  next  morning — Christ- 
mas day — the  march  was  resumed,  and  continued  until  noon  ; 
when  it  was  seen  that  Big  Foot's  band  must  have  taken  a  route 
farther  south,  and  had  already  entered  the  Bad  Lands. 

But  this  march  had  not  been  made  before  there  was  an  effort 
to  induce  the  hostiles  to  surrender  peaceably.  Father  Craft,  a 
Jesuit  missionary,  had  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go,  with  five 
hundred  friendlies,  to  entreat  the  hostiles  to  come  into  the  agen- 
cy and  submit  to  the  Government.    Such  was  the  well-recog- 


THE  WAR   WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


523 


nized  danger  of  this  mission^  that  of  all  the  Indians  who  were 
gathered  about  Gen.  Miles'  headquarters,  barely  one-fourth  of 
the  number  for  which  he  had  asked  could  be  induced  to  go. 
They  had  not  traveled  ten  miles  when  they  met  Stand  First,  an 
Indian  scout,  who  had  been  to  the  Bad  Lands,  wherei  he  had 
been  trying  to  induce  the  braves  to  come  in.  They  had  drawn 
their  guns  on  him,  and  told  him  that  argument  and  entreaty 
were  alike  useless ;  that  they  would  listen  to  no  treaty  or  prop- 
osition ;  and  that  they  believed  the  troops  were  afraid  to  pursue 
them  into  their  fastnesses.  They  said  that  they  believed  the 
Great  Father  at  Washington  to  be  a  great  liar,  and  added  that  if 
the  scout  could  tell  them  of  a  single  treaty  with  the  Sioux  which 
had  been  kept  by  the  Government,  they  would  come  to  the 
agency  as  soon  as  they  could  ever  pack  their  ponies.  The  scout 
was  obliged  to  confess  that  he  knew  of  none  such,  and  left  them, 
glad  to  escape  with  all  his  hair.  Disheartened  by  the  report, 
Father  Craft  returned  to  the  agency. 

The  famous  old  Seventh  Cavalry,  which  had  won  such  renown 
in  the  Indian  wars  under  Custer's  leadership,  was  now  in  the 
field  ;  the  enemy  was  the  same  tiibe  at  whose  hands  the  regi- 
ment had  suffered  so  severely,  and  this  was  the  first  occasiou 
since  the  Custer  massacre  that  thein=  had  been  any  great  trouble 
with  the  Sioux.  They  were  burning  to  avenge  the  massacre  of 
their  leader  and  their  comrades,  nearly  fifteen  years  ago;  to 
fight  again  with  the  Sioux,  and  come  off  victors.  When,  there- 
fore, they  were  sent  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitive  band,  they  went 
most  willingly,  prepared  to  fight  to  the  death  should  it  be 
necessary. 

At  first  it  seemed  that  there  would  be  no  trouble  with  Big 
Foot  and  his  men.  The  cavalry  rode  northward  from  Pine 
Eidge,  and  on  the  night  of  the  27th  of  December  had  en- 
camped near  Wounded  Knee  Creek.  From  this  point  scouts 
were  sent  out  in  all  directions,  to  see  if  the  hostiles  were 
♦encamped  anywhere  within  reach.  The  scouts  were  out  all  the^ 
morning  of  the  28th  without  result,  and  the  officers  in  command" 
began  to  think  that  the  hostiles  were  farther  off  than  their  re- 
cent depredations  had  seemed  to  indicate.  It  was  about^noon  of 
the  28th  when  one  of  the  emissaries  returned  with  the  word  that 
there  was  a  hostile  village  about  eight  miles  to  the  northwest  of 
the  cavalry  camp.    Major  Whiteside,  in  command  of  this  de- 


524 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


tachment,  at  once  ordered  four  troops  into  the  saddle,  and  they 
rode  off  at  full  speed  along  the  trail  indicated.  Their  approach 
was  noted  by  the  Indians,  who  formed  in  a  line  of  battle  imitated 
from  their  enemies,  each  man  fully  armed;  for,  in  addition  to 
the  gun  which  each  brave  carried,  and  which  was,  in  most  cases, 
of  the  latest  and  most  approved  pattern,  they  had  knives  stuck 
in  their  cartridge  belts  which  were  strapped  about  their  blank- 
eted figures.  The  force  was  evidently  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  strong,  while  Major  Whiteside  had  about  three  times  that 
number. 

As  the  cavalry  formed  within  about  rifle-shot  range,  Big  Foot 
came  forward,  alone,  unarmed,  and  on  foot,  and  signaled  that  he 
desired  to  speak  with  the  commanding  officer.  The  major  at 
once  dismounted,  and  went  forth  to  meet  the  chief  in  conference. 

^^I  am  sick,^^  began  Big  Foot,  extending  his  hand  in  token  of 
peace  ;     my  people  here  want  peace,  and — 

'^I  won't  talk/'  interrupted  Major  Whiteside;  ^^neither  will  I 
have  any  parleying  at  all.  It  is  either  unconditional  surrender 
bv  fight.    What  is  your  answer 

^^We  surrender,''  answered  the  chief ;  we  would  have  done  so 
before,  but  we  could  not  find  you,  and  I  did  not  find  any  sol- 
diers to  surrender  to," 

Major  Whiteside  did  not  pause  to  point  out  how  evident  was 
the  falsehood  of  these  statements  ;  but  when  Big  Foot's  warriors 
raised  a  white  flag,  signaled  his  soldiers  to  surround  the  camp. 
A  courier  was  dispatched  to  bring  up  the  remaining  troops  of  the 
regiment,  and  also  a  body  of  Indian  scouts,  to  assist  in  disarm- 
ing them;  for  although  they  numbered  but  a  hundred  and  fifty 
men  all  told,  it  was  not  improbable  that  there  might  be  trouble 
in  disarming  them.  An  Indian's  gun  is  far  more  to  him  than  the 
same  weapon  to  a  soldier;  it  is  his  friend  when  all  others  fail, 
his  companion,  his  purveyor  in  the  season  when  he  must  depend 
upon  game  for  his  food,  the  symbol  of  life  and  liberty. 

At  the  command  of  Major  Whiteside,  the  Indians  sat  down, 
arranged  in  a  semi-circle;  he  promised  them  immunity  from 
harm,  and  added  that  fuller  rations  than  they  had  yet  received 
from  the  Government  would  be  forthcoming.  Then  he  asked 
them : 

How  many  of  you  are  willing  to  give  up  your  guns  ?'^ 
There  was  a  moment's  pause ;  the  warriors  sat  in  stolid  silence; 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


525 


the  troopers  as  silently  awaited  their  action.  Then  slowly, 
from  the  line  of  dusky  warriors,  gun  in  hand,  arose  two  !  These 
came  confidently  forward  and  surrendered  their  guns  to  the 
military. 

Encouraged  by  this  example,  other  Indians,  to  the  number 
of  nineteen,  came  up  to  Major  Whiteside  and  informed  him  that 
they  had  no  guns  to  give  up;  but  if  they  had  possessed  such 
treasures,  he  should  have  had  them  for  the  asking. 

Perceivingthat  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  such  work  as  this, 
but  that  a  prompt  and  thorough  search  must  be  made  for  weap- 
ons, and  every  man  compelled  to  give  up  those  which  belonged 
to  him.  Major  Whiteside  gave  orders  that  the  tepees  should  be 
searched,  and  commanded  the  separation  of  the  Indians  into 
squads  of  about  twenty  men  each,  to  be  in  turn  disarmed  by  the 
troopers. 

Gen.  Porsythe  was  now  in  command  of  the  force,  the  rein- 
forcements having  come  up.  The  search  of  the  tepees  revealed 
about  sixty  guns,  which  had  been  hidden  at  the  approach  of  the 
troops ;  beside  war  clubs  and  other  weapons.  The  order  was 
now  given  to  search  the  warriors,  who  had  been  holding  some 
sort  of  a  consultation,  in  which  their  medicine  man  seemed  to 
bear  a  prominent  part,  wnile  the  examination  of  the  lodges  was 
going  on ;  but  so  far  were  they  outnumbered  by  the  soldiers, 
and  so  seldom  does  the  Indian  fight  unless  he  has  the  advantage, 
either  in  numbers  or  position,  that  no  fears  were  entertained  of 
any  trouble. 

About  a  dozen  of  the  braves  had  been  compelled  to  give  up 
their  weapons,  and  the  soldiers  came  to  a  youth  of  about  seven- 
teen, whom  some  noteworthy  deed  of  courage  had  caused  to  be 
placed  among  the  elder  braves.  As  they  raised  his  blanket  to 
see  what  arms  he  might  have  beneath  it,  he  grasped  his  gun  yet 
more  firmly  in  his  right  hand,  while  with  his  left  hand  he  threw 
a  handful  of  dust  into  the  air,  uttering  a  loud  cry  as  he  did  so. 
Instantly  a  shot  rang  out,  then  another,  and  another.  The 
startled  troopers,  veterans  as  they  were,  were  non-plussed  for  a 
moment.  But  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  The  fire  of  the  ene- 
my was  quickly  returned,  and  almost  as  quickly  as  it  can  be 
told  the  whole  village  was  one  dreadful  scene  of  battle. 

There  was  no  line  of  battle  on  either  side;  there  were  no  or- 
ders from  chiefs  or  officers ;  there  was  only  a  grim  determina- 


526 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


tion  on  the  part  of  the  soldiers  to  kill  as  many  Indians  as  possi- 
ble, on  the  part  of  the  Indians  to  kill  as  many  soldiers  as  possible. 
Small  as  the  Indian  force  was,  it  received  a  considerable  rein- 
forcement from  the  squaws,  who  came  to  the  side  of  their  hus- 
bands and  brothers  and  fought  as  determinedly  as  they.  The 
artillerymen  worked  desperately  to  get  their  guns  in  position, 
but  the  soldiers  and  Indians  were  in  such  inextricable  confusion 
in  the  village  that  the  cannon  proved  useless  in  their  hands.  It 
is  a  notable  fact  that  the  Indians  especially  fear  the  big  guns, 
and  hence  they  did  not  spare  the  artillerymen  in  their  fire.  As 
rapidly  as  they  could,  the  outnumbered  braves  sought  sheltered 
places  from  which  to  fire  upon  the  enemy  ;  though  many  of  them 
fell  fighting  face  to  face  upon  the  narrow  field  of  battle. 

Father  Craft,  the  Jesuit  missionary,  who  has  already  been 
mentioned  as  having  gone  after  this  same  band  to  induce  them  to 
come  into  the  agency,  accompanied  the  troops,  and  went  fearless- 
ly about  the  village,  thus  suddenly  made  a  battle-field,  to  rescue 
the  wounded.  Clad  in  the  black  cassock,  and  wearing  the  black 
cap  of  his  order,  he  stood  in  the  very  thick  of  the  fight,  earn- 
estly endeavoring  to  persuade  the  savages,  bloodthirsty  as  they 
had  shown  themselves  to  be,  to  lay  down  their  weapons  and 
surrender  to  the  white  men  ;  who  were,  alas  for  his  teachings 
as  much  infuriated  as  the  red  men  themselves.  Yet  one  man 
heeded  him.  An  Ogallala,  throwing  down  his  gun  and  rushing 
to  the  priest,  threw  his  arms  about  him  and  cried: 

"Love  me,  father;  I  do  not  belong  to  their  band.  See,  I  have 
thrown  away  my  gun." 

*^Lie  down,  my  son,  and  you  will  be  safe,  returned  the  priest 
calmly;  but  the  frightened  creature  clung  to  him  with  a  grip 
that  he  could  not  loosen — the  grasp  of  despair  itself.  To  a 
Sioux  warrior  who,  in  fighting,  passed  them,  it  seemed  an  Indian 
and  a  white  man  locked  in  a  death-dealing  embrace;  and  not 
noticing  that  the  white  man  was  the  priest  so  generally  beloved, 
he  gave  one  thrust  backward  with  his  long  knife  as  he  turned 
to  another  combatant. 

Forgetful  of  self,  the  priest  felt  not  the  blow,  but  continued  his 
efforts  to  induce  the  frantic  Ogallala  to  lie  down.  As  he  was  thus 
engaged,  a  soldier  came  to  him  ;  his  round  young  face  was  white 
with  pain,  and  his  uniform  was  all  stained  with  the  blood  that 
he  had  spilled,  and  with  his  own,  a  brighter,  because  a  fresher  stain* 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


Father/' said  he,  keeping  erect  by  a  strong  effort,  ^^I  am 
dying  J  will  you  hear  my  confession  V 

It  was  an  appeal  that  could  not  be  disregarded;  forgetful  now 
of  the  Indian  who  had  sought  his  aid,  and  who  still  clung  to  him, 
the  priest  encircled  the  young  soldier's  form  with  one  arm  ;  and 
thus  supported,  and  leaning  his  head  on  the  priest's  shoulder,  the 
trooper  whispered  his  confession  into  that  friendly  ear.  Eaising 
his  right  hand  to  heaven,  the  priest  began  the  absolution ;  but  it 
was  evident  that  the  soldier's  strength  was  failing  fast.  Heavier 
and  heavier  grew  the  dying  man,  as  his  muscles  refused  to  per- 
form their  office  in  supporting  his  body;  and  the  priest,  weaken- 
ed by  loss  of  blood  from  his  own  neglected  wound,  was  unable  to 
uphold  him  longer.  Together  the  three,  priest,  and  trooper,  and 
Indian  warrior,  sank  to  the  blood-soaked  earth  ;  and  there,  aj» 
the  priest  uttered  the  last  words  of  the  form  which  his  church 
prescribes  for  the  occasion,  the  spirit  of  the  penitent  passed 
away. 

The  wondering  Indian  was  nerved  .  new  by  the  sight  of  the 
priest's  courage  to  help  his  spiritual  children  in  the  time  of  their 
greatest  need  ;  and  restored  to  some  perception  of  the  condition 
of  others,  he  saw,  for  the  first  time,  that  the  blood  which  stained 
the  dark  cassock  was  that  of  the  priest  himself.  He  looked  about 
him  for  help  ;  it  was  not  far  distant.  A  soldier  who  had  just  dis- 
posed of  his  latest  antagonist  came  to  them.  Together  they 
tenderly  lifted  the  priest,  and  bore  him  to  a  place  of  comparative 
safety,  which  had  been  hastily  assigned  for  the  purposes  of  a 
field  hospital. 

^^I  am  shot,"  said  the  priest,  feebly,  as  they  laid  him  down. 
No,"  replied  the  soldier,  bending  over  him,  *^  you  were 
stabbed  by  an  Indian.    I  saw  him  do  it.     He  is  a  '  good  Indian' 
now." 

He  smiled  grimly  as  he  spoke;  thinking,  perhaps,  how  his 
own  hand  had  sped  the  bullet  to  avenge  the  priest's  wound. 

The  talk  which  the  Indians  had  neld  while  the  lodges  were  be- 
ing searched  was  probably  the  time  at  which  they  were  incited 
to  resistance  by  their  medicine  man.  Accordingto  some  accounts, 
he  fired  the  first  shot  himself;  at  any  rate,  he  encouraged  them 
with  assurances  that  he  had  charmed  the  bullets  of  the  white 
men  so  that  they  could  not  harm  the  Indians  j  that  was  no\F 
most  effectually  disproved. 


628 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-B ANGERS. 


The  ground  was  thickly  strewn  with  the  dead  and  wounded, 
and  the  soldiers,  who  were  under  orders  to  carry  the  wounded 
out  of  farther  danger  wherever  possible,  found  themselves 
obliged  to  use  much  care  in  going  about,  as  many  of  the  wounded 
Indians,  mistaking  the  purpose  of  their  coming,  fired  at  the 
would-be  hospital  corps.  An  officer  who  saw  this  called  out  that 
if  the  wounded  would  hold  up  their  hands,  they  would  be  taken 
care  of.  While  the  Indians  have  the  utmost  contempt  for  the 
promises  of  the  Government,  as  represented  by  civilians,  they 
fully  understand  that  they  can  trust  such  a  promise  as  this,  when 
made  by  a  soldier,  and  particularly  an  officer.  "When  this,  then, 
was  repeated  by  an  interpreter,  several  dusky  hands  were  raised 
feebly  to  implore  the  promised  help.  A  couple  of  soldiers  went 
toward  one  young  warrior,  a  man  of  about  twenty-five,  evidently 
a  person  of  some  rank  among  his  own  people.  He  was  shot 
through  the  body,  and  mortally  hurt.  The  barrel  of  the  Win- 
chester that  lay  by  his  side  was  so  hot  as  to  burn  the  hand  of  the 
trooper  who  picked  it  up  ;  showing  with  what  deadly  animosity 
the  brave  must  have  fought,  to  have  fired  so  rapidly.  As  they  asked 
him  what  he  wanted,  hesitating  to  move  a  man  who  was  so  neai 
death,  he  asked  if  they  knew  where  the  medicine  man  had  fallen, 
They  made  answer  that  they  did  not.  He  indicated  the  spot  to 
them,  having  seen  him  fall  but  a  few  moments  before  he  himself 
was  wounded. 

Carry  me  there,"  he  said,  "  and  lay  me  down  close  beside 
him." 

Thinking  that  he  desired  one  last  word  with  the  medicine  mar 
before  he  died,  they  hastened  to  comply  with  his  request;  fo)f 
the  warrior  had  indicated  that  the  prophet  was  but  wounded. 
They  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  was  fearfully  wounded;  and  one  of 
them  believed  that  he  was  dead  when  they  laid  the  young  war- 
rior at  his  side.  The  brave  put  his  hand  inside  his  hunting-shirty 
and  drew  a  long-bladed  knife.  Eaising  himself  from  the  ground^ 
he  leaned  over  toward  the  prostrate  seer,  and  rapidly  plunged 
the  knife  four  successive  times  into  his  body,  before  the  soldiers 
could  interfere. 

There,"  he  panted,  ^Hhat  serves  him  right;  it  was  all  hife, 
fault;  he  got  us  all  killed." 

Upon  inquiry  afterward,  it  was  learned  that  the  medicine  man 
had  promised  his  followers  immunity  from  hurt  and  a  certaip 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


529 


victory  if  they  attacked  the  white  men.  This  was  the  warrior's 
revenge  for  the  deception;  he  died,  assured  that  the  medicine 
man  could  not,  by  any  trick  or  sham,  feign  death  until  danger 
was  past,  and  then  revive;  his  own  blows  were  all  fatal. 

While  the  fierce  conflict  still  raged  in  the  midst  of  the  village, 
Capt.  Geo.  D.Wallace,  a  gallant  veteran  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry, 


From  Haepbb's  Wsbklt  Copyright,  1891,  by  Harper  &  Brotlieri. 

CAPT.  GEO.  B.  WALLACE. 


stood  at  the  door  of  a  tepee  directing  his  troop.  As  the  Itidiangt 
perceived  that  there  was  an  officer  among  them,  a  shower  t)f 
bullets  came  upon  "him.  Almost  simultaneously  four  of  those 
aimed  at  him  took  effect;  and  as  he  reeled  almost  falling,  a 
squaw  who  had  armed  herself  with  an  axe  sprang  close  to  him, 
with  her  weapon  uplifted.  It  descended  upon  bis  head>  and;  be 
fell  like  a  log  at  her  foot. 


530  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIGUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 

This  was  far  from  being  the  only  squaw  who  took  part  In  the 
fig^t,  though  there  is  no  other  whose  deed  has  been  thus  record- 
ed. The  women  caught  up  the  arms  which  the  dying  warriors 
let  fall,  or  used  those  which  had  been  held  in  reserve;  they 
fought  as  fiercely  as  the  men,  and  proved  as  determined  in  their 
resistance. 

As  opportunity  offered,  the  Indians  sought  refuge  in  the  sur- 
rounding ravines;  and  it  was  then  that  the  cannon  and  Gatling 
guns  were  of  use ;  hitherto,  as  has  been  said,  the  conflict  was  too 
much  on  the  hand-to-hand  order  to  allow  of  their  use,  without 
equally  imperiling  friend  and  foe.  The  battle  lasted,  in  its  full 
intensity,  for  nearly  an  hour  and  a  half;  while  after  that  time, 
tie  shots  from  the  ambushes  were  constantly  answered  by  the 
rattle  of  musketry  and  the  roar  of  the  cannon.  Thirty-five 
soldiers  were  wounded,  twenty-five  killed.  Of  the  Indians,  defi- 
nite figures  can  hardly  be  given;  as  almost  every  day  brought 
news  that  more  bodies  of  Indians  had  been  found  in  the  sur- 
rounding ravines ;  indeed,  there  was  no  attempt  made  to  include 
these  so  found  in  the  list  of  those  killed.  Big  Foot's  band  was 
practically  wiped  out  of  existence.  Eighty  were  left  dead  on  the 
battlefield ;  thirty-nine  were  captured,  twenty-one  of  these  being 
badly  wounded.  These  figures  refer  to  warriors  only;  the  bodies 
of  many  women  and  of  some  children  were  found,  both  on  the 
field  and  in  the  ravines;  so  that  some  journals  accused  the  sol- 
diers of  making  war  upon  squaws  and  pappooses.  A  moment's 
consideration  will  show  the  injustice  of  this  charge;  the  fight 
was  precipitated  by  the  Indians  themselves,  the  soldiers  being 
in  and  around  the  village  at  the  time ;  the  squaws  took  as  active 
a  part  in  the  conflict,  almost,  as  the  braves  themselves ;  they  were 
at  all  times  in  the  very  heart  of  the  conflict ;  and  when  the  guns 
were  pointed  at  the  ravines,  it  was  because  there  had  been  firing 
from  those  particular  points.  Considering  these  things,  it  is  not 
clear  how  the  soldiers  were  to  fight  the  warriors  without  endan- 
gering the  women  and  children. 

When  the  news  of  the  fight  at  Wounded  Knee  Creek  reached 
the  agency  at  Pine  Ridge,  pandemonium  broke  loose  among  the 
five  thousand  Indians  gathered  there;  and  a  large  number  of 
them  broke  away.  The  friendly  Indians,  including  Red  Cloud, 
joined  the  army  forces  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Brooke.  Be- 
fore night,  the  new  hostiles  had  made  a  determined  effort  to 


reach  and  burn  the  agency ;  a  village  ot  the  triendlies,  some  three 
miles  away,  was  actually  given  to  the  flames. 

Two  Strike's  band  had  been  considered  as  belonging  to  the 
class  of  friendly  Indians,  but  as  the  troopers  who  had  taken  part 
in  the  battle  of  Wounded  Knee  were  returning  from  the  field, 
these  Indians  suddenly  attacked  the  provision  train,  and  succeed- 
ed in  capturing  it.  The  soldiers  gave  chase,  overtook  the  Indians, 
and  compelled  them  to  render  up  their  prey.  Over  thirty  Indians 
were  hurt  in  this  skirmish. 

After  the  fight  at  Wounded  Knee,  it  was  calculated  that  about 
three  thousand  Indians  were  on  the  war-path.  These  had  found  a 
stronghold  in  the  Bad  Lands,  about  fifteen  miles  from  the  Pine 
Ridge  agency.  It  was  Gen.  Miles'  intention  to  surround  them 
here,  cut  ofif  all  chance  of  escape,  and  gradually  drive  them  to- 
ward the  agency,  which  was  well  protected  by  cannon  and 
machine  guns.  Under  these,  with  a  sufficient  force  of  troops  on 
each  flank  and  in  the  rear,  it  was  thought  that  they  could  be 
induced  to  surrender  and  submit  to  disarming  without  any 
trouble. 

But  for  several  days  after  the  battle,  all  was  confusion;  the 
dead  must  be  buried,  the  wounded  must  be  cared  for;  and  the 
helpless  Indian  children  who  had  been  found  on  the  field  of  bat- 
tle must  be  provided  for.  One  of  these  latter  was  a  pappoose 
scarcely  three  months  old,  which  was  found  three  days  after  the 
fight,  having  strangely  lived  on  unharmed  through  the  terrible 
blizzard  that  followed.  It  had  been  well  wrapped  up  by  its 
mother,  and  lay  among  the  corpses  of  strong  men  and  women, 
awaiting  rescue.  It  was  taken  to  the  agency  and  cared  for  as 
tenderly  as  though  it  had  been  an  infant  prince.  Gen.  Colby, 
visiting  Gen.  Miles  a  few  days  later,  asked  to  see  the  ^'Babe  of 
Wounded  Knee,"  as  the  child  had  been  named ;  and  was  so  tak- 
en with  its  chubby  face  and  bright  eyes  that  he  adopted  it  as  a 
member  of  his  family.  A  report  was  afterward  published,  how- 
ever, stranger  than  all,  that  its  mother  survived  her  own  terri- 
ble wounds,  crawled  back  to  the  agency  more  dead  than  alive, 
and  claimed  her  child. 

At  the  time  of  the  exodus  from  the  agency  after  the  fight,  old 
Red  Qoud's  wife  insisted  upon  her  husband's  joining  the  hos- 
tiles.  It  would  appear  from  the  circumstances,  that  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  hen-pecked  Indian  husband,  although  our  ideas 


532  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 

on  the  subject  make  this  somewhat  incredible.  At  any  rate, 
Mrs.  Red  Cloud  began  to  throw  all  their  joint  possessions  hastily 
into  the  wagon,  declaring  that  she  would  leave  whether  he  did 
or  not.  Thus  compelled,  he  left,  and  sent  word,  a  few  days  la- 
ter, that  he  was  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  hostiles,  and  was 
threatened  with  death  should  he  attempt  to  return  to  the  agen- 
cy. It  was  understood  that  Little  Wound  was  in  the  same  pre- 
dicament, as  well  as  Big  Road. 

'But  the  hostiles  who  were  thus  penned  up  in  the  Bad  Lands, 
were  by  no  means  compelled  to  remain  there;  they  had  the  full 
range  oi  all  the  ground  within  the  cordon  of  soldiers  which  had 
been  established.  It  was  this  which  enabled  them  to  attack  a 
wagon  train  on  the  5th  of  January.  A  number  of  wagons  were 
known  to  be  on  the  road  from  Rapid  City  to  the  camp  which 
had  been  established  at  Wounded  Knee,  and  it  was  thought  best 
to  send  out  a  detachment  to  protect  them.  Thirty  picked 
men  set  out  for  that  purpose.  They  had  not  gone  ten  miles 
when  they  saw  the  thirteen  wagons  of  which  the  train  consisted, 
drawn  up  in  the  form  of  a  square,  and  the  guards  resisting  the 
attack  of  about  fifty  Indians.  The  detachment  put  their  horses 
to  a  gallop;  their  approach  caused  the  Indians  to  retreat  to  a 
neighboring  hill,  probably  from  a  fear  that  these  formed  only 
the  advance  of  a  considerable  force.  The  soldiers  now  joined 
the  teamsters,  who  numbered  but  nineteen.  A  rude  breastwork 
had  been  improvised  from  sacks  of  grain  and  boxes,  behind 
which  the  entire  force  entrenched  themselves,  confident  that  the 
Indians  would  return.  They  were  not  disappointed.  The  Indi- 
ans seeing  that  only  this  handful  of  men  had  been  sent  out  for 
the  protection  of  the  train,  returned  to  the  attack,  and  dashed  in 
constantly  lessening  circles  about  the  train.  They  kept,  how- 
ever, a  distance  of  never  less  than  five  hundred  yards,  so  that 
their  rifles  were  far  from  being  effective,  since  Winchesters  do 
not  carry  well  for  that  distance.  The  carbines  of  the  soldiers, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  used  with  much  fhore  effect ;  and  a 
number  of  Indians  were  seen  to  fall  from  their  ponies. 

The  number  of  the  Indians  had  been  increased,  since  their  re- 
turn, to  about  one  hundred.  Finally,  it  was  resolved  by  the 
soldiers  that  one  of  their  number  should  return  to  camp  to  ask 
for  a  larger  force.  The  fleetest  horse  at  command  was  selected 
for  him;  and  while  his  comrades  managed  to  attract  the  atten- 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS.  533 

tion  of  most  of  the  Indians  to  one  side  of  their  extemporized 
fort,  he  dashed  suddenly  away  on  the  other  side.  Almost  in- 
stantly they  saw  the  reason  for  drawing  them  to  the  rear  of  the 
train,  and  with  a  yell,  about  twenty  warriors  gave  chase.  Bul- 
let after  bullet  whistled  past  his  ears  as  he  lay  upon  the  neck 
of  his  horse,  presenting  as  vSmall  a  mark  as  possible  to  the  pur- 
suers; but  not  one  struck  him,  and  at  last  his  good  horse  dis- 
tanced theirs,  less  carefully  bred. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  intercept  the  messenger,  the  Indians 
returned  to  the  attack  with  new  vigor.  Four  cavalry  horses 
were  shot  by  them;  and  a  number  of  braves,  dismounted,  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  much  closer  than  the  main  body,  in  order  to 
fire  into  the  group  of  horses,  to  stampede  them  if  possible.  This 
move  would  have  been  successful  had  the  whites  trusted  the 
horses  to  stand;  but  as  some  of  the  soldiers  were  guarding  and 
holding  the  horses^  their  voices  reassured  the  frightened  ani- 
mals, and  prevented  a  stampede. 

One  Indian,  more  venturesome  than  the  rest,  tried  to  make  his 
way  to  the  rear  of  the  train,  in  order,  probably,  to  set  fire  to  it, 
or  perhaps  with  the  less  heroic  intention  of  stealing  some  of  the 
contents  of  the  last  wagon.  He  was  wholly  unobserved  by 
the  soldiers  and  teamsters;  but  it  chanced  that  a  teamster  had 
been  taken  sick  on  the  way,  and  now  lay,  almost  forgotten  by 
his  excited  fellows,  on  a  bed  of  hay  in  the  back  part  of  the  rear 
wagon. 

The  sick  man  watched  the  Indian  stealing  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  gave  no  sign  to  his  comrades.  He  well  knew  that  they  had 
enough  to  do  to  take  care  of  themselves,  while  he  really  did 
not,  under  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  feel  like  a  very  sick 
man  after  all.  He  was  perfectly  able  to  reach  for  his  Winches- 
ter, and  bring  it  into  good  position  to  take  careful  aim  at  the 
Indian,  who  had  not  yet  discovered  his  presence.  The  red  man 
was  within  twenty  yards  of  the  wagon  before  the  invalid  judged 
it  time  to  fire.  Crawling  on  his  hands  and  knees  along  the 
ground,  suddenly  he  felt  a  sharp,  burning  pain  in  his  back, 
where  a  bullet  had  plowed  its  way  along;  the  report  of  the  gun 
had  not  been  noticed^  so  constant  was  the  noise  from  the  others. 
With  a  yell,  half  of  surprise,  half  of  pain,  he  jumped  up,  when 
another  bullet  from  the  same  rifle  pierced  his  heart. 

The  bullets  were  flying  thick  enough  at  the  other  side  of  the 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS.  535 

train,  and  the  handful  of  men  there  entrenched  began  to  find 
their  situation  alarming.  For  six  mortal  hours  the  teamsters 
had  been  firing  at  these  Indians;  three  hours  without  help,  and 
the  three  hours  since  with  the  aid  of  the  thirty  soldiers.  Would 
help  come?  Almost  they  began  to  think  that  their  messenger 
had  not  reached  his  destination,  when  they  saw  the  Indians  be- 
ginning to  draw  off ;  troops  were  coming  at  full  charge  to  the 
rescue.  The  Indians  scattered  in  all  directions  as  the  soldiers 
came  within  range ;  and  although  they  were  pursued  until  night- 
fall, succeeded  in  eluding  the  cavalry. 

The  dead  Indian  proved  to  be  a  medicine  man,  evidently  a 
person  of  some  consideration.  He  was  the  only  one  killed  out- 
right, although  it  was  evident  that  several  were  badly  wounded. 

Meantime,  at  Pine  Ridge,  all  was  alarm.  A  few  days  before 
this  attack  upon  the  wagon  train,  a  scout  had  brought  in  word 
of  an  engagement  in  which  fourteen  troopers  of  Gen.  Carr's 
command  had  been  killed  by  hostiles.  The  Indians  refused  to 
listen  to  any  propositions  for  peace.  Finally,  it  was  said  that 
there  was  a  plot  to  massacre  all  the  whites  at  Pine  Ridge.  This 
was  told  with  such  circumstantial  details  as  to  cause  thorough 
alarm.  The  consequence  was  that  extraordinary  precautions 
were  taken,  and  if  any  such  plot  was  laid,  it  was  judged  unsafe 
to  carry  it  out. 

After  the  excitement  attending  the  fight  at  Wounded  Knee  had 
somewhat  subsided,  the  old  warriors  among  the  Indians  saw 
that  they  were  apt  to  get  the  worst  of  it;  they  knew  ver}^  well, 
by  this  time,  that  the  assertion  that  their  ''ghost-shirts"  would 
repel  the  white  man's  bullets  was  most  arrant  nonsense;  and 
many  of  them  began  to  see  that  the  chances  of  the  dead  warriors 
coming  to  life  to  help  them  in  the  fight  were  very  small  indeed. 
But  the  younger  braves  still  clung  to  hope,  were  still  resolved 
to  defy  the  enemy  of  their  race.  While  the  old  chiefs  urged 
the  advisability  of  submitting  to  Gen.  Miles,  the  younger  men 
threatened  to  kill  any  one  who  left  the  hostile  camp  for  the 
purpose  of  visiting  the  agency.  At  last,  however,  ten  chiefs, 
Jack  Red  Cloud,  Big  Road,  High  Horse,  Long  Bear,  Lone 
Hawk,  and  five  of  less  note,  were  permitted  to  hold  council  with 
the  general. 

But  the  result  was  far  from  being  what  they  had  hoped  or  ex- 
pected.   Gen.  Miles  had  his  plans  well  laid;  the  submission  of 


536  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 

these  Indians  was  now,  he  knew  very  well,  but  a  question  of  a 
very  short  time;  and  he  proposed  to  have  matters  settled  so 
that  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  the  future.  He  flatly  refused 
to  listen  to  their  complaints,  then;  telling  them  that  there  was 
nothing  for  them  to  do  but  to  surrender  unconditionally;  if 
they  had  complaints  to  make,  they  would  be  at  liberty,  after 
their  surrender,  to  go  to  Washington,  and  lay  them  before  the 
authorities  there. 

The  temper  of  the  hostiles  was  clearly  shown  by  the  recep- 
tion which  was  accorded  an  officer  who  went  tO'  their  camp  to  try 
to  induce  some  of  the  chiefs  to  come  for  a  talk  with  Gen.  Miles. 
This  was  just  before  the  submission  of  those  chiefs  who  have 
been  mentioned.  Lieut.  Casey,  attached  to  the  22d  Infantry, 
and  in  command  of  a  body  of  Cheyenne  scouts,  left  early  on  the 
morning-  of  January  7,  to  reconnoiter  in  the  direction  of  the  big 
hostile  village  on  White  Clay  Creek,  near  White  River.  Accom- 
panied by  only  one  of  his  scouts,  he  was  earnestly  warned  by 
Gen.  Brooke  not  to  go  too  near  the  savages,  as  it  had  been  re- 
ported that  they  were  holding  a  dance,  and  their  fanaticism 
might  lead  them  to  some  act  of  more  than  usual  treachery  and 
cruelty. 

After  riding  eight  miles,  Lieut.  Casey  came  upon  the  village, 
but  not  unperceived ;  two  Sioux,  an  Ogallala  and  a  Brule,  dashed 
into  the  village  and  reported  to  Red  Cloud  that  an  army  offi- 
cer was  approaching.  The  old  chief  was  perhaps  the  most 
pacific  of  all  the  hostiles,  and  was  really  endeavoring  to  hold  the 
more  enthusiastic  in  check;  he  saw  at  once  that  any  violence 
offered  to  an  officer  would  make  a  breach  that  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  bridge,  and  sent  a  messenger  to  warn  Lieut.  Casey.  This 
messenger  was  his  son-in-law,  a  French  half-breed,  named  Jack 
Richards,  who  had  come  to  take  his  family  away  from  the  hos- 
tile camp.  He  was  accompanied  by  the  two  Indians  who  had 
first  seen  the  approach  of  the  officer. 

His  message  was  delivered,  with  a  warning  against  the  Brule. 
The  Ogallala  also  warned  the  officer  against  his  companion, 
saying  that  the  Brule  had  a  black  heart. 

''Very  well,"  was  the  reply  to  both;  ''I  will  just  ride  to  the 
top  of  yonder  butte,  and  see  what  the  village  looks  like,  and 
then  I  will  go  back." 

Remonstrance  was  futile;  he  rode  forward,  followed  by  the 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS.  537 

half-breed  and  the  two  Indians  Suddenly  the  Brule  raised  his 
weapon,  and  took  aim.  His  Indian  companion,  quick  and  wary 
as  himself,  sprang  upon  him,  wrenched  the  gun  from  his  grasp, 
drew  the  loads,  and  returned  it  to  him,  with  a  warning  of  the 
consequences,  should  the  officer  be  killed.  For  answer,  the  < 
Brule  dashed  away  a  few  yards,  hastily  re-loaded,  and  chanting 
the  invocation  to  the  departed  braves  as  he  circled  about  the 
officer,  again  took  aim.  This  time,  there  was  nothing  to  prevent 
the  accomplishment  of  his  object;  and  his  victim  fell,  shot 
through  the  brain. 

The  excitement  in  the  village  was  intense.  Old  Red  Cloud 
and  a  party  of  his  followers  at  once  rode  out  to  recover  the 
body,  and  save  it  from  mutilation,  while  Richards  galloped  off 
furiously  to  the  camp  of  Gen.  Brooke,  toi  carry  the  news. 

A  mutiny  broke  out.  The  Ogallalas,  under  the  leadership  of 
Red  Cloud,  denounced  the  assassination,  and  predicted  swift  and 
merciless  vengeance  from  the  soldiers.  The  Brules,  the  Unca- 
papas  and  the  Yanktonaise  Ghost-Dancers,  who  numbered  about 
one  thousand  five  hundred,  denounced  this  peace  party  as  cow- 
ardly and  threatened  to  kill  them  and  their  families  if  they 
tried  to  return  to  the  agency. 

It  was  not  until  midnight  that  Red  Cloud  and  his  family 
dared  to  attempt  the  return  to  the  agency.  Then  they  were 
discovered,  and  their  steps  followed  by  a  shower  of  bullets. 
They  succeeded,  however,  in  escaping;  and  although  a  terrible 
blizzard  was  raging,  made  their  way  to  the  agency,  bringing 
with  them  the  news  of  a  brisk  fight  that  was  then  raging  be- 
tween the  two  elements  in  the  hostile  camp. 

Almost  at  the  same  time  that  Red  Cloud  brought  this  news, 
American  Horse  gave  an  apparently  truthful  report  that  the  hos- 
tiles  were  dispatching  their  men,  alone,  and  in  groups  of  twos 
and  threes,  to  come  into  the  agency  in  the  guise  of  friendlies, 
to  incite  the  peaceable  Indians  to  rise  and  burn  the  agency 
buildings. 

'But  the  watchfulness  of  the  troops  prevented  the  success  of  the 
plan,  if  such  plan  there  had  been;  and  beyond  the  burning  of  a 
few  outlying  cabins  of  friendlies,  there  was  little  damage  of  this 
nature.  Throughout  the  time  of  excitement,  of  course,  there 
had  been  the  usual  accompaniments  of  an  Indian  war,  in  the 
way  of  ranches  attacked^  small  parties  of  travelers  surprised, 


538  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 

and  similar  outrages;  but  these  were  always  so  much  a  part  of 
Indian  warfare  that  they  provoked  little  comment  from  the  outer 
world. 

What  had  been  the  result  of  the  fight  in  the  hostile  camp,  was, 
of  course,  only  a  matter  of  conjecture.  It  appears,  however,  that 
the  war  party,  chiefly  Brules,  had  obtained  the  mastery  over  those 
who  had  desired  to  surrender,  who  were  mainly  Ogallalas,  since 
the  great  body  of  the  hostiles  still  refused  to  comply  with  Gen. 
Miles'  demands  and  come  into  the  agency.  It  is  probable  that 
the  warriors  who  desired  to  surrender  were  closely  watched 
by  the  others,  if  not  actually  held  as  prisoners;  for  although 
many  of  their  squaws  came  in,  there  were  but  very  few  men. 

Gradually,  however,  the  great  camp  was  pressed  by  the 
troops  nearer  and  nearer  the  agency;  and  at  each  advance  the 
blue  wall  around  and  behind  them  closed  upon  them.  Their 
progress  in  this  direction  was  very  slow;  but  when  this  was  re- 
marked upon,  the  wily  Indians  pleaded  that  they  had  so  many 
wounded  bucks  and  squaws  to  transport  that  it  was  impossible 
to  move  more  rapidly. 

January  14,  Gen.  Miles  held  a  council  with  a  number  of  chiefs, 
Young-Man-Afraid-O'f-His-Horses,  Little  Wound,  Big  Road, 
Crow  Dog,  Turning  Bear,  Two  Strike,  Kicking  Bear,  Short 
"Bull,  Good  Voice  and  Good  Lance,  with  a  view  to  hastening  the 
submission  of  the  hostiles.  They  made  ready  promises  for  their 
bands,  providing  they  were  allowed  to  keep  their  weapons;  but 
it  is  not  probable  that,  had  they  been  ever  so  sincere,  they  could 
have  kept  their  promises  at  once;  the  influence  of  the  chief 
warriors  was  lost  when  they  attempted  to  urge  the  fiery  young 
bucks  to  submit.  The  young  men  were  wrought  up  to  the  high- 
est pitch  of  excitement  by  the  Ghost-Dance  and  similar  means, 
and  would  listen  to  no  argument  in  favor  of  peace.  Their  dar- 
ing is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the  very  night  before  this  pow- 
wow was  held,  there  was  a  Ghost-Dance  within  a  thousand  yards 
of  the  rifled  cannon  which  guarded  the  camp  at  Pine  Ridge. 

The  sincerity  of  the  chiefs  who  had  met  the  commanding  offi- 
cer in  council  was  shown  the  next  (Jay,  when  Big  Road  an- 
nounced that  he  and  his  band  desired  to  turn  their  arms  over  to 
the  soldiers.  When  the  arms  thus  surrendered  were  counted, 
it  was  found  that  there  were  nine  guns.  It  should  be  noted  that 
one  of  these  was  broken. 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 


Kicking  Bear  walked  into  Gen.  Miles'  headquarters,  and  of- 
fered to  surrender  his  own  weapon.  It  was  an  old  muzzle-loading 
Springfield  rifle,  which  had  been  converted  into  a  breech-load- 
er, and  then  sawed  ofif  to  resemble  a  carbine.  This  antique 
weapon  he  laid  upon  the  general's  desk  with  many  protestations 
that  he  was  a  changed  Indian ;  but  remarked  to  persons  outside 
ias  he  came  out,  that  he  had  nine  more  guns,  all  good  ones. 

The  hostiles  had  been  brought  in  at  last;  and  this  task  had 
been  accomplished  by  the  aid  of  Young-Man-Afraid-of-His 
Horses,  who  had  always  been  the  most  loyal  chief  to  the  Gov- 
ernment in  all  the  Sioux  nation.  During  the  summer,  when  he 
saw  how  things  were  likely  to  go,  he  had  discreetly  taken  his 
band  and  gone  on  a  visit  to  the  Crow  country,  whence  he  did 
not  return  until  he  was  urgently  requested  to  do  so  by  the  mili- 
tary, after  the  battle  at  Wounded  Knee.  Accompanied  by  three 
of  his  best  lieutenants,  and  escorted  by  a  strong  force  of  cavalry, 
he  came  to  Pine  Ridge ;  and  within  thirty-six  hours  after  his  ar- 
rival, had  hastened  the  steps  of  the  slowly-advancing  hostiles  so 
that  they  were  under  the  guns  at  that  point. 

But  for  a  time  after  this  work  had  been  accomplished,  it 
seemed  that  it  was  upon  the  point  of  being  undone.  A  wounded 
squaw  came  into  the  agency,  seeking  such  care  as  her  condition 
required.  She  was  taken  to  the  hospital,  where  there  were  still 
some  of  the  victims  of  the  fight  at  Wounded  Knee,  nursed  by 
other  Sioux.  She  told  the  story  of  her  wound  there,  and  it  was 
quickly  spread  among  the  Indians  by  these  nurses.  She  was 
the  wife  of  a  chief  named  Few  Tails,  a  brother  of  Big  Road  and 
a  near  relative  of  Young-Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses.  A  hunting 
party,  consisting  of  six  bucks  and  two  squaws,  provided  with  a 
dozen  ponies  and  two  wagons,  had  been  returning  from  an  eagle 
hunt  in  the  Bear  Butte  country.  Their  peaceable  character 
was  proved  by  a  pass  from  Gen.  'Brooke,  and  an  assurance 
from  Captain  Taylor;  not  one  of  them  was  painted.  As  they 
journeyed  quietly  along,  there  came  a  volley  from  a  clump  of 
bushes  near  the  road.  Few  Tails  fell  dead;  his  squaw  was 
wounded  in  the  breast  and  in  the  leg;  the  others  fled;  what 
had  become  of  them  the  wounded  squaw  could  not  tell.  She  lay 
where  she  had  fallen  until  she  heard  no  more  shots;  then  she 
crept  to  the  side  of  her  husband,  and  found  that  he  had  evident- 
ly been  instantly  killed.     Afraid  to  venture  along  the  trail 


540  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS. 

where  they  had  met  such  a  reception,  she  managed  to  crawl  to 
the  bushes  near  by,  where  she  lay  all  that  winter  night.  Then 
she  set  out  for  Pine  Ridge,  painfully  dragging  herself  along  for 
eight  weary  days.  She  arrived  there  January  19,  and  published 
the  outrage  for  the  first  time. 

When  it  was  told  to  Young-Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses,  he 
scowled,  and  for  a  time  refused  to  be  pacified,  but  turned  sullenly 
away  from  Gen.  Miles  and  his  staff  who  were  endeavoring  to 
soothe  his  anger  at  this  black  ingratitude  of  white  men.  At  last, 
however,  their  efforts  were  successful';  and  the  great  chief  went 
again  to  the  hostile  camp,  to  stop  them  in  the  work  of  saddling 
their  horses  and  preparing  to  depart  or  to  fight ;  so  strongly  had 
the  news  of  Few  Tails'  death  affected  them. 

In  truth,  it  is  small  wonder  that  the  Indians  should  distrust 
the  white  men;  but  Gen.  Miles  finally  succeeded  in  convincing 
Young-Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses  that  the  army,  at  least,  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  murder;  that  it  was  the  work  of  cow- 
-boys, and  that  the  murderers  would  be  fittingly  punished  by  the 
civil  povv^er  as  soon  as  they  could  be  brought  to  trial.  This  in- 
cident showed  more  plainly  than  ever  the  wisdom  of  Gen. 
Miles'  recommendation,  upon  which  the  Government  had  al- 
ready acted,  that  an  army  officer  should  be  appointed  Indian 
Agent  at  Pine  Ridge;  and  the  trust  which  the  Indians  have 
learned  to  put  in  some  commanders  would  make  it  seem  that 
such  would  be  the  wisest  course  in  general. 

Unlike  most  Indian  wars,  and  contrary  to  the  predictions  of 
most  persons  who  fancied  themselves  to  be  prophets,  the  rising 
had  come  to  an  end  without  a  great  or  decisive  battle.  There 
had,  indeed,  been  numerous  fights,  of  greater  or  less  magnitude; 
of  which  that  at  Wounded  Knee  was  by  far  the  most  important; 
but  the  end  was  brought  about  by  a  determined  exhibition  of 
the  power  of  the  Government,  and  constantly  keeping  before  the 
minds  of  the  Indians  the  hopelessness  of  the  struggle  for  them. 
*  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  discuss  here  the  cause  of  this  rising, 
at  least  from  the  white  man's  standpoint.  Gen.  Miles  has  said 
that  it  was  in  consequence  of  a  far-reaching  plot,  which  was  to 
spread  among  the  hundred  thousand  Indians  of  the  Northwest; 
and  that  it  was  the  disaffected  Mormons  who  laid  and  fired  the 
train.  It  is  not  yet  time  to  say  whether  this  be  so  or  not;  but 
having  in  the  earlier  pages  of  this  chapter  given  something  of 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERS.  54I 

the  views  of  the  whites  as  to  the  origin  of  this  outbreak,  it  is 
but  justice  to  add  here  what  the  Indians  have  to  say  for  them- 
selves. The  words  are  those  of  Red  Cloud,  as  reported  by 
Father  Craft,  who  is,  as  "will  be  remembered,  of  Mohawk  blood: 

''Everybody  seems  to  think  that  the  belief  in  the  coming  of 
the  Messiah  has  caused  all  this  trouble.  This  is  a  mistake.  I 
will  tell  you  the  cause. 

''When  we  first  made  treaties  with  the  Government  this  was 
our  position:  Our  old  life  and  our  old  customs  were  about  to 
end;  the  game  on  which  we  had  lived  was  disappearing;  the 
whites  were  closing  around  us,  and  nothing  remained  for  us  but 
to  adopt  the  same  ways  and  have  the  same  rights  with  them  if 
we  wished  to  save  ourselves.  The  Government  promised  us  all 
the  means  necessary  to  make  our  living  out  of  our  land,  and  to 
instruct  us  how  to  do  it,  and  abundant  food  to  support  us  until 
we  could  take  care  of  ourselves.  *  *  *  *  We  did  not  get 
the  means  to  work  our  land.  The  few  things  given  were  given 
in  such  a  way  as  to  do  us  little  or  no  good.  Our  rations  began 
to  be  reduced.  Some  said  that  we  were  lazy  and  wanted  to 
live  on  rations  and  not  to  work.  That  is  false.  How  does  any 
man  of  sense  suppose  that  so  great  a  number  of  people  could  get 
to  work  at  once,  unless  they  were  supplied  with  means  to  work, 
and  instructors  enough  to  teach  them  how  to  use  them? 

"Remember,  that  even  our  little  ponies  were  taken  away  un- 
der the  promise  that  they  would  be  replaced  by  oxen  and  large 
horses,  and  that  it  was  long  before  we  saw  any,  and  then  we  got 
very  few.  We  tried,  even  with  the  means  that  he  had,  but  on 
one  pretext  or  another  we  were  shifted  from  place  to  place  or 
were  told  that  such  a  transfer  was  coming.  Great  efforts  were 
made  to  break  up  our  customs,  but  nothing  was  done  to  intro- 
duce the  customs  of  the  whites.  Everything  was  done  to  break 
the  power  of  the  real  chiefs,  who  really  wished  their  people  to 
improve,  and  little  men,  so-called  chiefs^  were  made  to  act  as 
disturbers  and  agitators.  Spotted  Tail  wanted  the  ways  of  the 
whites,  and  a  cowardly  assassin  was  found  to  remove  him.  This 
was  charged  upon  the  Indians  because  an  Indian  did  it;  but 
who  set  on  the  Indian  ? 

"I  was  abused  and  slandered  to  weaken  my  influence  for 
good  and  make  me  seem  like  one  who  did  not  want  to  advance. 
*  *  *  *  Those  who  held  us  pretended   to  be  very  anxious 


542  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  SIOUX  GHOST-DANCERSo 

about  our  welfare,  and  said  our  condition  was  a  great  mys- 
tery. We  tried  to  speak  and  clear  up  this  mystery,  but 
were  laughed  at  and  treated  as  children.  So  things  went  on 
from  year  to  year.  Other  treaties  were  made,  and  it  was  all  the 
same.  Rations  were  still  further  reduced,  and  we  were  starv- 
ing. ^  ^  ^  ^  The  people  were  desperate  from  starvation; 
they  did  not  think  of  fighting — what  good  would  it  do  ?  Some 
said  they  saw  the  Son  of  God.  All  did  not  see  Him.  I  did  not 
see  Him.  If  He  had  come  He  would  do  some  great  thing  as  He 
had  done  before.  We  doubted  it,  because  we  saw  neither  Him 
nor  His  works.  Then  Gen.  Crook  came.  His  words  sounded 
well;  but  how  could  we  know  that  a  new  treaty  would  be  kept 
any  better  than  the  old  ones?  For  that  reason  we  did  not  care 
to  sign.  He  promised  to  see  that  his  promises  would  be  kept. 
He,  at  leasts  had  never  lied  to  us.  His  words  gave  the  people 
hope.  They  signed.  They  hoped.  He  died;  their  hope  died 
with  him.  Despair  came  again.  The  people  were  counted,  and 
wrongly  counted.  Our  rations  were  reduced  again.  The  white 
men  seized  on  the  land  we  had  sold  them  through  Gen.  Crook, 
but  our  pay  was  as  distant  as  ever.  The  man  who*  counted  us 
told  all  over  that  we  were  feasting  and  wasting  food.  Where  did 
he  see  this?  How  can  we  waste  or  eat  what  we  have  not?  *  * 
*  Our  rations  were  again  reduced.  *  *  *  There  was 
no  hope  on  earth,  and  God  seemed  to  have  forgotten  us.  Some 
one  had  again  been  talking  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  said  that  He 
had  come.  The  people  snatched  at  the  hope.  They  screamed 
like  crazy  men  to  Him  for  mercy.  They  caught  at  the  promises 
they  heard  He  made. 

"The  white  men  were  frightened  and  called  for  soldiers.  We 
heard  the  soldiers  were  coming.  We  did  not  fear.  We  hoped 
that  we  could  tell  our  troubles  and  get  help.  A  white  man  said 
the  soldiers  meant  to  kill  us.  We  did  not  believe  it,  but  some  were 
frightened  and  ran  away  to  the  Bad  Lands.  The  soldiers  came. 
They  said:  'Don't  be  afraid;  we  come  to  make  peace,  and  not 
war.'  It  was  true.  They  brought  us  food,  and  did  not  threat- 
en us.   If  the  Messiah  has  really  come,  it  must  be  in  this  way.'' 


